Carpool
The streets were eternal back thenback when back seat was a canopy of armsstretched out like the solsticethe thump of tire on chewed cementjolting the deviance from feeble bodiesMomma was no pilot, bu... Read more
Yusuf
trapped in a moving trainknee to knee with an archangel sun radiating off sandy complexionmanicured stubble lining jawline sharp and effortlesstaste of blood floods to my mouth Ya Khaaliq, You are the... Read more
Time Machine
A time travel machine. It might sound futuristic, something science fiction writers spend pages and pages imagining. In fact, I have seen one. I will try to describe it for you, in case you have seen ... Read more
Culture
The first time I saw Apo Tudo, The Ilocano rain deity, I swear, he sent mist to that mountain Outside of Baguio Kissing the Filipino soil with sweet promises and tearful memories My grandmother share... Read more
Doorway Effect / Dadar Station
Indira Gandhi Airport (New Delhi), 19th Oct 2016 The seat belt sign is lit. I stare at the screen, struggling to choose a movie. Baba must be reaching home joining Aai for a cup of chai. ... Read more
Duality
“Where are you from?” Usually, people don’t believe that I’m Jamaican, on account of me not having an accent, not speaking patwa—and also not being Black. They don’t generally have a probl... Read more
Every Refugee is a Poem
(1) كلُّ لاجئٍ قصيدةٌ. (2) أنا القصيدةُ: كان كاتبي على عجلٍ، فلم يضع ليَ عنواناً. تركني على مكتبِه ثم غادرَ. ... Read more
Grieving a Stranger
My parents came to Canada as refugees in the late ’80s for better opportunities and to escape Ethiopia’s hellish dictatorship. Though I cannot know the extent of their struggles, I can speak of th... Read more
In Search of Identity
البحث عن هوية لا وطن لي أُنتزعت منّي الهوّية وهمت في رحاب الأرض بلا مرجعيّة فهلاّ آويتني؟ هلاّ كنت لي أرضاً أز... Read more
Remind Them
Colour: forever reside in my blood will keep me on holy ground colour that lived war inside of her. War: the goodbye kisses, tangible on cheek three years on nothing left to go back too. Hom... Read more
Time Moves Both Ways
Last summer, my wife and I rode our bikes together along the Cambridge to Paris rail trail—an eighteen kilometer venture alongside an out-of-use train track. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no fitness q... Read more
The Tower
Looking down to the ground below, wind whips around my body. The gravity allures me, asking me to take the step forward, asking me to throw it all away. I am reassured; my heart gives way to apathy. T... Read more
Policing the Pandemic
When the first wave of COVID-19 in March 2020 set off emergency orders in Ontario, police departments were given increased powers to enforce public health measures that called for self-isolation and physical distancing. Neighbours were also encouraged to police each other through the use of “snitch-lines”, and an expanded state of surveillance was assumed as a new normal. This deepened pre-existing police presence and control in neighbourhoods where more poor, Black, Indigenous, and immigrant communities live. KW Article Club, a reading group and art collective based in Waterloo Region, informed by work from local and international Black activists and organizers, sought to address these structural inequities in March 2020 through a zine titled #PolicingThePandemic. The following feature is an adapted version of that zine that adds two pieces that delve into the impact policing has on Black people, making a case for why we continue to strive towards a future where we prioritize care instead of enforcement. Read more
This House
Listen to Yasmeen talk about working with Textile on the Watershed Writers Podcast. I am leaving this house, moving an hour away, trying to feel like I am worth a beginning,my mother tells me I am bre... Read more
Two Poems
Listen to Nitica read her poems: Textile · Nitica Sakharwade - Aaji / between my fascia hides griefAaji / between my fascia hides grief Textile · Nitica Sakharwade - Did You? a contrapu... Read more
I promise we did not gather
When this Eid hits, we know we will spend it alone and at home and it’s fine. My family is safe and together and I am grateful for so much. We make chai and have Eid cookies and there is warmth here... Read more
Grieving a Stranger (Digital Storytelling Workshop)
My parents came to Canada as refugees in the late ’80s for better opportunities and to escape Ethiopia’s dictatorship. Though I cannot know the extent of their struggles, I can speak of their consequences... Read more