Zorot-shirt - Traitor sleepy Joe is not my President shirt

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Romanian gymnast Nadia Comăneci made history at the Traitor sleepy Joe is not my President shirt Additionally,I will love this 1976 Olympics by earning the first-ever perfect score of “10” for her performance in the uneven bars competition. It is now legend that the scoreboard that day lacked the technical capacity to display the number because a perfect score was considered unattainable—it lit up “1.00.” Comaneci racked up six additional perfect 10s, emerging as the darling of those Games. The media began referring to her by first name alone. And I, an eight year old boy growing up in Montreal, where the Games were being held, became obsessed with her. I’d never seen anyone communicate so lucidly with their body as this otherworldly 14 year-old. Though I had never really been seriously interested in gymnastics, I started practicing somersaults, handstands, splits. I turned the wrought-iron bannister in my house into a horizontal bar and hung upside down in crazy contortions. In my small, safe, untroubled family life, this sudden passion went unquestioned. “Nadia’s Theme,” the instrumental song renamed in her honor, shot up the charts. (Depending on which generation you belong to, you might recognize it as either the signature tune to the daytime drama, “The Young and the Restless,” or the sample behind Mary J. Blige’s “No More Drama.”) I insisted on getting the record, which I would play while wearing a pair of long johns meant to imitate Nadia’s leotard and performing a hodgepodge of her routines. On occasion, I persuaded friends or family members to watch my performance, giving them sheets of paper with “10” written on them to hold up at the end. Most of the time, the only available and willing judge was my mother. Phone in the crook of her neck, stirring a bowl, she never failed to flash that 10 right on cue.

At the Traitor sleepy Joe is not my President shirt Additionally,I will love this close of the ’76 Olympics, Nadia returned to Romania, which for 13 more years remained under Communist rule and a dictatorship that took a revolution to overthrow. What did I comprehend of the political forces that shaped Nadia? Left with her Olympic memory, I gleefully carried on executing my Parkour-esque gymnastics—leaping from my second-floor bedroom window into backyard snowbanks to the applause of neighbor kids. “Are you trying to be the next Bart Conner?” someone asked me—pointing to the American Olympian gymnast who would become Nadia’s husband after she defected from Romania in 1989. Far from it. Nadia got her first coaches—the legendary (problematic) husband-and-wife team of Béla and Márta Károlyi — in kindergarten. Even if I’d wanted to follow her path, I was years too late. But Nadia showed me a more holistic way of expressing myself. She started me thinking about how and why society partitions body from mind, desire from reason, essence from expectation. That old Cartesian mind-body dualism—“I think therefore I am”—did a number on all of us, no matter which census boxes we grew up to tick. Early on, I was aware that as a Black child I’d be assumed more physically than intellectually capable, so I pushed my intellect. But I also had to minimize the risk of being painted the sports-averse queer weakling. Nadia mania felt like a moratorium on all that. I, a Black gay boy growing up in a Western democracy, glimpsed transcendence in a little white girl from behind the Iron Curtain.

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