Issues

Carpool

In Issue 01: In Transit

Zainab Mahdi

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

She Gets There

In Issue 01: In Transit

Emily Arnott

It took her fourteen years to get back to a city. It wasn’t a big city, but hey, it had a bus. Refreshing Google Maps every minute, she prays that all her transfers connect. And there’s no street ... Read more

Translator's Note

In Issue 01: In Transit

Bashar Lulu Jabbour

The translation of the Arabic pieces in this magazine was a collaborative effort. Most often, the author wrote a rough English translation that I edited and later passed on for review with other nativ... Read more

Culture

In Issue 01: In Transit

Samantha Estoesta Williams

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

The New KW

In Issue 01: In Transit

Janice Jo Lee

This poem is meant to be read out loud, with friends, while in transit. Persevere through construction, detours won’t trouble you Let these stories mark our new KW. A KW that connects us with... Read more

Sacred Spaces

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Shawn Johnston

When Indigenous youth began to hold space at O:se Kenhionhata:tie, we knew this was the beginning of a movement that was going to bring about change. We had become a ceremonial gathering space for Two Spirit and queer Indigenous youth and queer settler allies—a place for transformation. Many of the youth who were part of the camp had very little knowledge of their culture and came wanting to learn about their Indigeneity. Knowledge keeper Dr. Kathy Absolon led us one evening in a full moon ceremony and shared teachings about the moon and the water we all carry within us. In a circle we formed around our sacred fire, Dr. Absolon passed a feather to invite us all to share about ourselves. Many youth cried as they spoke—there were tears of happiness and sadness from a longing to reconnect to the land. For some, it was their first time sitting in ceremony. The camp became a refuge where the youth could be themselves, unapologetically Indigenous and/or queer, and free of judgement. The following is a collection of photos I shot at camp, along with words from land defenders who took up space with us. — Shawn Johnston Read more