Dans La Soupe- Weird Local Expression In My Area For Being In Eliminated In A Game And Made To Sit In

Dans la soupe- weird local expression in my area for being in eliminated in a game and made to sit in the middle of the circle and I’m pretty sure it’s just people in my city who use it and that it comes from French daycares.

See also soup of shame/souprifice, specific to the bilingual theatre camps I work at developed as micro expressions by us returning camp councillors based on a literal translation slowly spreading through local French and English school theatre programs participants attending the camp are also part of. Note that these preteens should not be considered a highly reliable source as most of them are quite prone to hyperbole and might interpret "I talked about it with a friend in the school play once and we started making jokes about being carrots when we get out in the theatre game" as widespread adaptation and report it as such.

That said, is there a linguist out there who can explain what this phenomenon would be? A highly local expression getting an inside joke translation potentially being adopted by the dominant and dominated linguistic groups in a highly bilingual area with a lessening degree of tension between linguistic communities seems like a thing someone would have studied somewhere before. Like I dunno but it seems like this might be interesting to someone who knows more about linguistics than me. If we pretend my sketchy observations are accurate, what’s going on here? Is there a word for it? Is this common in bilingual communities?

soup de jour: soup of the day

soup de jure: soup the government wants you to eat

soup de facto: the soup everyone actually eats

i think that all the people who argue about gender by saying "the woke left cant even define a woman" need to get hit with the "who are you" question by a buddhist monk. no, thats your name, who are you. no thats your profession, who are YOU. no you fucking idiot thats your species, who are YOUU. dumb bitch u cant even define yourself

I am not an expert in childcare or childhood development, but I have learned some strategies for helping kids who are dealing with big emotions through trial and error. These are the ones I use for kids between 5 and 10.

Do not:

Yell back at a child or yell at a crying child. First, you can’t help a child self-regulate if you yourself can’t at least give the illusion of being regulated. Whether or not you think the child did or is doing something wrong, this is not the time to correct the behaviour. If the perceived problem behaviour already happened, I can guarantee you that in this moment they will not internalize a lecture or learn from a punishment. If the perceived problem behaviour is actively occurring and putting the child or someone else in danger, yelling might not make them stop. Yelling at them will likely make them more upset, thus making it harder for them to manage their behaviour. If the problem behaviour is not putting anyone in danger, then set a boundary, be firm, but do. not. yell. If there is no perceived problem behaviour aside from being upset, what the heck are you even yelling at them for? Having feelings? That’s very likely how they’ll interpret it. And let me tell you that getting yelled at by an adult when they’re upset will not make a kid less upset. Getting yelled at for crying makes it really hard to stop crying, actually. If they do manage to shut themselves up, it will be because they’ve just learned that they have to hide their hard feelings from you. That will not, ultimately, lead to a more regulated child, a child who trusts you, or a child who behaves more cooperatively.

That’s what not to do. Here’s what I suggest.

Understand (find out why they’re upset), validate (no, you don’t have to tell them that their reaction is proportionate, it probably isn’t, or excuse any perceived problem behaviour, just let them that their feelings are real and allowed), regulate (show them how to take deep breaths, guide them through focusing on their senses, maybe just get them somewhere private where they can cry it out), and plan (how do we help you feel calmer in this sort of situation next time, what do we do to solve the problem that made you feel upset, how do we help you feel safe reintegrating into this activity, how does your behaviour need to change to be safer/kinder). These can happen in any order. Some kids will not be able to explain the situation that made them upset until you help them regulate. Some won’t be able to feel regulated until they have a plan to deal with the situation. Some kids will be regulated pretty much as soon as they feel validated. Sometimes the same approach works for one kid every time they’re upset, sometimes you need to try a different take from situation to situation. You need to be prepared to tailor your approach to each kid and each situation, accept that you may misstep and be prepared to backtrack or improvise, and this is key, appear calm and regulated even if you’re not. Sometimes situations that upset kids upset adults too and often seeing a kid upset is in itself distressing for adults. It’s understandable if you need a moment to put on a calm face. I personally like to calm myself down by modelling deep breaths for the child. Calms two birds with one stone.

It has taken me years to get to a point where I can not actively make it worse like 95% of the time and maybe be helpful like 70% of the time.

Yes. My goodness yes. In high school I was routinely shoved into the “transgender encyclopedia” role by teachers. They would be talking about something gender related, someone would ask a question about trans people, and the teacher would just hand the question off to me. Honestly, I would prefer that to them stumbling through it, but seriously? Why did this fifteen year old end up teaching half the lesson? Can you consider for five seconds what that does to a kid? It was like being offered the choice of a) shutting it down, saying nothing and experiencing an uptick in bullying because I couldn’t explain my complex, trans existence to the class or b) getting into it and experiencing an uptick in bullying because I probably said five separate things the class bigots object to. Either way I will experience some degree of harassment.

I also dealt with a crushing pressure to be a good little encyclopedia because I knew that if that person Googled it instead of asking me nonbinary would autofill to ‘is made up’. I know that when someone has a genuine question if I can’t answer or give a sufficient answer that person will likely judge my entire community? I’m not a fucking ambassador? I’m not an expert? I’m just some dude you cornered at the family reunion. We’ve literally never spoken before. And that’s when they’re approaching me in good faith. Half the time it’s straight up harassment.

It is kind of funny though when you explain the most base level concept and the cis person you’re talking to looks like you blew their mind. Like, come on. I literally just showed you a stock photo of the genderbread person and told you that gender is socially constructed and I think I somehow shattered your worldview.

Anyway, yeah. OP is absolutely right. Being an activist isn’t a prerequisite to being trans.

Queer 👏 people 👏 are 👏 not 👏 all 👏 fucking 👏 activists 👏

Stop quizzing us on queer history and asking us questions we aren’t qualified to answer about the world and about politics and about our identities

Stop trying to back us into a corner so you can justify your discrimination on the basis that we don’t know what we’re talking about or can’t “defend” ourselves to you

Stop treating every queer person that stands up and says “I want to be treated like a person” as if they’re an activist

Cut that bullshit out

Marginalised people just want to exist and be happy

I don’t know everything, and that doesn’t make me undeserving of your respect or my human rights you fucker

I don’t even owe you the stuff I do know- I still am entitled to basic fucking respect

TLDR; Queer people shouldn’t have to be historians or scientists for you to not be a fucking dick

Okay so existential dread is a significant element of my existence but every so often I experience a moment of existential joy.

You ever just look at your dog and go wow. That there is a dog. That dog is a living, breathing creature outside of me. He is a living creature and sometimes when we’re snuggled up I can feel his heartbeat and if I listen I can hear him breathing and he radiates warmth. And it just fills you with absolute joy like this thing has free will and is choosing to fall asleep laying on my back with his head on my butt and he only understands like ten of the thousands of words I say to him and it must feel so different to live in his hairy body with a better sense of smell than sense of sight and his nervous system has got to be wildly different but I’m pretty much certain he loves me and one of the truest things about me is that I love him. He is lying with his head on my butt because when he made it clear that this was how he was going to fall asleep I went of course this is what we’re doing now. Like this living thing that experiences the world in a way I could never understand communicated to me that he desired to lay his head upon my buttocks and I said yes. How many thousands of generations of members of our species had to work to adapt to each other in such a way that I can lay here in cozy comfort knowing that while my neck and shoulders are displeased with this arrangement my nervous system, my endocrine system, my cardiovascular system are benefiting from the strange bond our ancestors managed to build? How strange and beautiful that some ancient wolf going look they’ve got snacks and some prehistoric human going I dunno that forest creature sure has scary teeth but I think it looks like a potential pal lead to you and me sitting like this, my arm slowly falling asleep, you starting to snore because somewhere along the way in your genetic line we fucked up your breathing. My family brought you into this house for the sole purpose of having a creature for me to love and care for. Your job is to be loved. I don’t think I would have made it these past three years without you. Some dude was like yeah you can have some liver and all of a sudden your little head is on my butt and you’re a dog living, breathing, heart beating and we love each other. This is real. We’re alive together.

There is joy in this existence and how strange and beautiful is that?

cw: ableism against neurodivergent folks, discussion of police violence, contains a personal story about a negative interaction with security officers

Most of the time I exist in a strange middle ground where I pass as neurotypical to some, albeit a weird one while some people just assume I’m autistic. Part of the reason why I want to get a diagnosis is because while yes, people who assume I’m autistic sometimes treat me like a child, I rarely encounter outright hostility with them when I can’t hide my autistic traits. Neurotypicals seem to need to have a diagnosis disclosed to them before they’re willing to tolerate perceived strangeness. It’s that thing where it’s okay to bully someone for autistic traits, but it magically becomes discrimination when the person discloses a diagnosis. I see people talking about this a lot, but I want to emphasize the potential danger of not being able to prove your autism.

In meltdown, I have had campus security called on me. Fair enough. I couldn’t stop screaming. I can see how that might scare someone. They wouldn’t believe me that I wasn’t high. I had to give them way more personal information than I should have had to to convince them that I was not, in fact, taking drugs I wasn’t prescribed. I had to tell them what medications I was on, convince them that I was taking them, tell who my psychiatrist was, and that I was on a wait list for a therapist before they would stop trying to convince me to admit I was high. Before they would treat me like a person and not a threat. I essentially had to prove that I was an acceptable mentally ill to them.

First I say, so what if I had been high? So what if I wasn’t being "appropriately managed?" Even in those cases, it is not helpful and potentially dangerous for the person in crisis to treat them like they’re a threat. That’s ableist. Requiring people to convince you that they are receiving or pursuing certain treatments or otherwise meet specific standards of respectability before you treat them like a person is ableist.

What if I had been having a verbal shut down that day? I was barely able to talk at all in that moment. Speaking felt physically painful and I was struggling to form complete sentences. I was lucky I was able to communicate the necessary details to earn safety from them. What if I hadn’t been able to? What if they had been real cops? What if I hadn’t been able to say "no touch" or communicate other basic needs and the situation escalated?

What if I had had an autism card? That situation would have been much less terrifying. I would feel safer going out in public knowing that if I get upset and can’t communicate, I have a diagnosis other people are likely to believe to back me up. I can make my own warning card with instructions on how to help me, but ultimately, people don’t listen to disabled people, they listen to their doctors. If I say I’m autistic to an authority figure and later on I can’t prove it, I will be in trouble.

The same way I hope people in my classes assume I’m autistic so they are willing to be tolerant of my autistic traits, I hope people who can genuinely hurt me assume in my worst moments that I am autistic so they won’t fucking tase me.

If I, a white person, a housed person, am worried about being hurt because I can’t be clear about my autism, imagine what it’s like for people from other demographics that are already more vulnerable to police violence. People who are also less likely to receive an official diagnosis.

I am willing to discuss this and would love to hear other people’s perspectives, but I will not be debating people about my choice to self-diagnose.