The woman on the left is a mother from Miami who was so desperate to feed her hungry family that she was trying to steal a lot of food.
The woman on the right is Miami-Dade County Police Officer Vicki Thomas. Officer Thomas was about to arrest Jessica Robles but changed her mind at the last minute.
Instead of arresting her, she bought Robles $100 worth of groceries:
“I made the decision to buy her some groceries because arresting her wasn’t going to solve the problem with her children being hungry.”
And there’s no denying they were hungry. Robles’ 12 year old daughter started crying when she told local TV station WSVN about how dire their situation was:
“[It’s] not fun to see my brother in the dirt hungry, asking for food, and we have to tell him, ‘There is nothing here.’”
Officer Thomas says she has no question that what she did was right:
“To see them go through the bags when we brought them in, it was like Christmas. That $100 to me was worth it.”
But Officer Thomas did have one request:
“The only thing I asked of her is, when she gets on her feet, that she help someone else out. And she said she would.”
And guess what? The story gets even better.
After word got out about what happened people donated another $700 for Jessica Robles to spend at the grocery store.
And then best of all a local business owner invited her in for an interview and ended up hiring her on the spot as a customer service rep.
She started crying when he told her:
“There’s no words how grateful I am that you took your time and helped somebody out. Especially somebody like me.”
And to think it all started with one veteran police officer trusting her “instinct” instead of going “by the book”.
I N S T I N C T
Realised 2am this morning that I have an assessment that I comepletly and utterly forgot about due later today.
Panic, flailing, and self-hatred ensues.
Go to sleep, becuase sick an exhausted, for a while.
Wake up, pull of the most marvellous bullshit of my life.
Realise that I did a decent job, and breathe.
Now I’m going to collapse into bed and sleep for a week.
Police officers in Ferguson, Missouri, have begun wearing body cameras after weeks of unrest over the shooting death of an unarmed black teen by a white officer and sharply differing accounts of the incident, officials said on Sunday.
Michael Brown, 18, was shot multiple times by Ferguson Police Officer Darren Wilson on Aug. 9, sparking nearly three weeks of angry protests in the St. Louis suburb and drawing global attention to race relations in the United States.
Law enforcement and witnesses gave differing accounts of what transpired before Brown was shot, with police saying the teen had struggled with the officer. Witnesses say Brown held up his hands and was surrendering when he was shot multiple times in the head and chest.
The discrepancy has revived calls for officers across the county to be outfitted with body cameras to help capture an accurate record of police-involved incidents.
Every conversation with Carver.
I am literally so hungry that I feel ill.
But because I feel ill, I don’t want to eat.
I fucked up my eating habits in highschool, and five years later I still can’t eat properly in the mornings.
i appreciate your concern, but at my college we interact a great deal with autism speaks and support it. you shouldn't focus on what they're doing wrong, because none of it is terrible, but focus on what they are trying to do for people with all different levels of autism.
Things you apparently don’t consider terrible:
Posting a video of a mother talking about how she wanted to kill her child while that same child was in the room listening.
Supporting the eugenic abortion of autistic people.
Failing to condemn the murders of autistic children.
Supporting the Judge Rotenburg Center, which according the the UN, tortures autistic people.
It is terrible, only 3% of their budget goes towards services, there are no autistic people on their board, they literally support eugenics. They are doing absolutely nothing good.
This is widely know withing the autistic community and they are pretty universally hated by autistic people. Because they are terrible. They only even bother pretending to care about little white boys.
Read that link. Read it.
And here is the resignation letter of the sole autistic person they had in an important (but still non board) position
Here’s a flyer by a major autism advocacy organisation on them
OR, if you still don’t give a fuck about what autistic people think or want, (which seems kind of obvious from the content of this ask) here are some links written by non autistic people.
Here’s a post from the CEO of one of the oldest charities in the US for intellectually and developmentally disabled people.
Here’s a post from a major autism parenting magazine
And here are some other posts
If you continue to support them now you are in possession of this information, then it is clear that you are not an ally to autistic people, you don’t want to help us, and are probably just doing your charity work for “oh look at me, I’m a good person” points.
If you support autism speaks, you are not supporting autistic people, you are hurting us. And you are doing it knowingly and consciously.
Please spread this, not enough people know.
Fenris would be awkward and stiff, unsure how to respond. A jerky pat on the back, a slight tension in his shoulders, and then he’s drawing away, coughing and stating that it’s time to move on, a slight flush of embarrassment on his cheeks.
Sebastian would be difficult because of the bulk of his armour stopping any real closeness, but also because he’d probably put as much distance between bodies as possible so nothing even vaguely sexual touches. that said, all his hugs would be sincere, with a kiss to the temple or a comforting squeeze to set the mind at ease before he pulls away.
Isabela would be all boob and quick hands, reaching down to grab a handful of ass before laughing and darting away, all flirtatious charm. A person in need of comfort would have a gentle hand on the back of their neck, another pressing loosely against the small of their back, as a mother holding a child.
Merrill would be over excited, a little bit nervous and very chatty, only letting the hug go on for the barest of moments before she’s flitting again to do something else, her mind going at a mile a minute. She’d hug often, once she knows the person, to make up for how short the hugs are.
Aveline would reserve hugs for very special people or occasions, and even then getting anything more than a one armed hug would be difficult; only Donnic and Wesley have ever gotten full bodied hugs from her, because she’s not a very touchy-feely woman, and will only let down her guard for the man she loves.
Varric would have the problem of just being too small to hug without having to bend down, and as a businessman would much prefer a handshake over a hug - not that he doesn’t allow it, of course, just that someone else has to initiate it, and even then he might brush it off with a joke; he’s much better at fatherly hands on shoulders, anyway.
Anders would draw a person in and cling to them like a lifeline, as if it’s the last body contact he’s ever going to get. He’d grip them tight and hold them flush against his body, holding on for as long as possible before reluctantly letting go, his fingers lingering against their skin just to make sure it’s real before stepping back once more.
Alistair hugs like he laughs, automatic and without thought, hands to arms to gathered closeness, ducking his head with a laugh at himself before he draws back, but his hands would linger on the shoulders or the arms, every bit as warm and sincere as the smile he bites back, because this isn’t fodder for his jokes, he won’t let it be.
Morrigan hugs stiffly, awkwardly, hands come up to grip at the receiver’s back, clenching and releasing to drag, to hang slack, uncertain of what to do or where to position herself, quickly growing uncomfortable at the contact and self-conscious at her own response, and breaks away quickly, darting back and away with her back bent, hands coming up to toy with her necklaces before turning away, though her words are weighed with the memory of touch when next she speaks.
Leliana hugs easily and often, pressing cheek to cheek or burying her face down where the shoulder meets the line of the warden’s neck, hands coming up to grip and to hold, a brace for every laughing moment to follow, wheresoever they go.
Sten’s hugs could be counted on the fingers of one hand, with some to spare, but when they are initiated, they are slow things, sure things, hands coming up to cradle those places that need shoring up, or, just as likely, those places that keep him from flying apart.
Oghren very rarely initiates hugs, standing stock sill when he receives them, clearing his throat with an awkward laugh and making light of it with a joke and a wave of his hands, because hugs are greeted as an old friend gone stranger, remembered only in the twist of his mouth, because if he doesn’t dismiss it that means it matters to him so much more than it may have been meant, every moment falling into place with the softest sound. There are times, though, when he does give them. When he tugs the receiving person down if they’re too tall and wraps his arms around them in a squeeze that’s just this side of being too tight, burying the lower portion of his face against their shoulder so he won’t be tempted to speak. It would be short and hard and layered, like the man himself.
Wynne hugs are always warmer than you remember, fingers rising to rub circles on the warden’s back, as reassurance or to steady herself, breathing out an inheld breath on a low laugh, breathing in air gone lighter.
Shale hugs with the cant of a rocky head, flickering witchlight eyes that the warden might have thought was a wink, in words that came harder than even Shale’s fists, crumbling away at a touch to reveal something brighter.
Zevran’s hugs are private things, stolen moments spent in breathing, in bending to press his face in close to the warden’s, hands coming up to sketch careful lines around the person, the love, in his arms, released with a laugh or with silence, smiles fading away to an expression that hurt more than any blade.
These are forms of male aggression that only women see. But even when men are afforded a front seat to harassment, they don’t always have the correct vantage point for recognizing the subtlety of its operation. Four years before the murders, I was sitting in a bar in Washington, D.C. with a male friend. Another young woman was alone at the bar when an older man scooted next to her. He was aggressive, wasted, and sitting too close, but she smiled curtly at his ramblings and laughed softly at his jokes as she patiently downed her drink. ‘Why is she humoring him?’ my friend asked me. ‘You would never do that.’ I was too embarrassed to say: ‘Because he looks scary’ and ‘I do it all the time.’
Women who have experienced this can recognize that placating these men is a rational choice, a form of self-defense to protect against setting off an aggressor. But to male bystanders, it often looks like a warm welcome, and that helps to shift blame in the public eye from the harasser and onto his target, who’s failed to respond with the type of masculine bravado that men more easily recognize.