Ken🦋

IG:_itskensworld

[k @ysljennii]

Can’t believe I’ve lived far enough into the future to learn the first slur for robots

[Shibo @GodsBurnt]

They’d NEVER get Americans to enlist for WW3…

Unless they:

- Made owning a house impossible.
- Made everyone lose their jobs to AI.
- Made groceries unaffordable.

And then made the military the only real way to provide for a family.

Oh wait…

[zae @itszaeok]

people who get sad and weird on valentine's day lowkey be ruining the vibe like sorry you knew you were single yesterday omfg

[Sophia ❣️ @KeruboSk]

Does anyone else with ADHD feel calm in actual emergencies but overwhelmed by normal daily tasks like emails, forms or phone calls?

[Ken🦋 @_itskensworld]

@seangarrette I don’t think she’s taking it lightly. I think she’s on a really good cocktail of antidepressants 😂. Poor baby can’t be sad if she wanted to be.

[ᴍᴀʀᴄ ᴅᴇsʜᴀᴜɴ @marcdeshaun_]

It was a crime what the did to Mya’s last major label era. This song should have done miles better. Especially around that time.

[Ken🦋 @_itskensworld]

@_silkskin Whew thanks for the warning. I do not want my time wasted.

[Ashley Hollis @ashleyhollis_]

I think TikTok as we know it is over! It was a big mistake for the owner to sign over to America because I think we are about to see the fall of TikTok in real time.

[princesa @myculofat]

i've never been hated by a bad bitch it's always some neglected animal

[𝐒𝐢𝐦✞✞✞ @WhoTFissim]

Lack of consideration will kill any bond we have, I’m not reminding you to act like you care about me

[Caroline Renard @carolinerenard_]

Hey, so the Caribbean is a real place where real people live all year round, not just for your Holidays. Stop being weird.

[Grip Skylark 💕✨ @talleyberrybaby]

You got to be a real dumb ass to book a trip to jamaica during hurricane season and then be surprised not only that there is a hurricane but surprised that the resort staff is not cooking you steak and eggs and pouring mimosas. Like bitch go to hell.

[I appreciate you. @DeeLaSheeArt]

I’m not sure why it’s always being turned into a “Black people don’t support Black creatives” conversation. Black ppl will fill up a theatre, stream, purchase and support just off the strength of being Black alone. We also can call bullshit when it’s called for.

[James Tate @JamesTate121]

They call it “lunch shaming.” I call it cruelty. For 38 years, I watched it happen from my history classroom. Then, one Tuesday, I decided to become a quiet criminal.
My name is Arthur Harrison. For nearly four decades, my world has been cinder block walls, the smell of old books, and the drone of the 2:15 PM bell. I teach American History. I’ve lectured on the Great Depression, on bread lines and poverty, trying to make the black-and-white photos feel real to kids who live in a world of vibrant color and constant noise.
But the most brutal history lesson wasn’t in my textbook. It was in the cafeteria.
It was a Tuesday when I saw it happen to Marcus, a quiet sophomore who sat in the back of my third-period class. He was a good kid, drew incredible sketches of Civil War soldiers in his notebook margins. I saw him at the front of the lunch line. The cashier, a woman I’d known for twenty years, said something to him. I saw his shoulders slump. He was handed not a tray of hot food, but a cold cheese sandwich and a small milk carton—the “alternative meal.” The IOU. The badge of shame.
He walked past his friends, eyes glued to the floor, and sat at an empty table at the far end of the cafeteria. He didn’t eat. He just stared at the wall. In that moment, he wasn’t a student. He was a statistic. His family’s bank account balance was on public display, served between two slices of cheap bread.
Something inside me, a part of my soul worn thin by years of budget cuts and standardized tests, finally snapped.
The next day, I walked into the main office before school. Linda, the cafeteria manager, was there sorting receipts.
“Art,” she said, not looking up. “Don’t tell me the coffee machine is broken again.”
“It’s fine, Linda,” I said, sliding a folded fifty-dollar bill across the counter. “I want to start a fund. Anonymously. For the kids who come up short. When it happens, just… take it from this. No cheese sandwiches.”
She finally looked up, her eyes lingering on the money, then on my face. She didn’t say a word. She just gave a slow, deliberate nod and tucked the bill into her apron.
I started doing it every week. A fifty, sometimes a hundred if my pension check had a little extra. I called it the “Invisible Lunch Fund.” Linda never mentioned it, but sometimes I’d see her give a real hot meal to a kid I knew was struggling, and she’d catch my eye from across the room with that same quiet nod. It was our secret conspiracy of decency.
This went on for a year. It was my quiet rebellion.
Then, one afternoon, Sarah, the sharpest student in my AP History class, stayed after the bell.
“Mr. Harrison?” she started, twisting the strap of her backpack. “I have a question. It’s not about the homework.”
“Go ahead, Sarah.”
“I know about the lunch money,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “My mom works in the school office. She sees Linda’s accounting. There’s a line item she just writes in as ‘Donation.’ I know it’s you.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. I was caught. I imagined disciplinary meetings, being told I’d broken some obscure district policy.
But Sarah wasn’t angry. Her eyes were shining. “We want to help,” she said.
The next Monday, a group of students from my AP class set up a bake sale in the main hall. The sign, hand-painted on poster board, read: “BAKE SALE FOR BENEDICT ARNOLDS. (Because betraying your friends by letting them go hungry is treason.)”
By lunchtime, they had a shoebox overflowing with crumpled bills and coins. They placed it on my desk without a word. Over four hundred dollars. The administration, to their credit, looked the other way.
I’m retiring this year. The Invisible Lunch Fund is now just “The Fund,” and it’s run entirely by the students. They’ve made it their own.
For 38 years, I tried to teach kids that history is shaped by big speeches and epic battles. I was wrong. History isn’t just about the noise. It’s about the quiet moments, the unspoken acts of grace. It’s written not in textbooks, but on a lunch receipt when one person decides that another human being will not be shamed for being hungry. That’s the America I want to believe in. That’s the lesson I finally learned.
Thank you Carol Sacks Goldstein for sharing

[Ken🦋 @_itskensworld]

@channj_ OMG!!!

[TMZ @TMZ]

#EXCLUSIVE 🚨 'RHOP' star Wendy Osefo and her husband booked on fraud charges in Maryland. https://t.co/VBUpdf6UbQ

[Sibylle @AHaschi]

He told america to drop Joe and now he is in France
You can't make this up

[MR. CAMPBELL @IWeaveSteve]

HBCU FAMILY WARNING... THEY ARE COMING TO START TROUBLE. PLEASE MAKE SURE ALUMS, SCHOOL ADMINS AND OUR STUDENTS ARE SUPPORTED VS THIS MOVEMENT THAT IS TRYING TO CAUSE A NEGATIVE VIRAL MOMENT! DO NOT BE BAITED!

[Jay @iHad2GoGetit]

seeing your friend happy after working hard to get out of a dark place

[Aries Hashira @DontCallTy]

Fuck that rap beef. THE GOVERNMENT IS SHUT DOWN. Millions of people can’t go to work/ won’t get paid including me. Bills don’t stop. This is bullshit

[DR. Reesetheone1 since licenses aren't needed 😂 @reesetheone1]

Protesting Harris when she isn’t president about Palestine is why DESPISE the far left.