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

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

Doorway Effect / Dadar Station

In Issue 01: In Transit

Nitica Sakharwade

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

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

Tiles

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Dewe'igan Bearfoot Olivia Maine

For Indigenous peoples across Turtle Island, the pandemic deepened pre-existing inequities. The aid that settler-colonial systems offered did not account for (or value) the importance of physical and spiritual spaces for Indigenous communities. Locally, urban Indigenous youth who were just beginning to learn about their culture were suddenly denied access to spaces they needed in order to be in relationship with each other and with the land. Building relationships with the land and with each other in a face-to-face way is an important part of reconnection and healing; removing these connections deeply impacted Indigenous youth and made it necessary to adapt art projects accordingly. To navigate this, Textile supported Pins and Needles Fabric Company, an Indigenous inter-arts company in Waterloo Region, in co-designing an art program with Indigenous youth. Through online talking circles and in-person meetings with appropriate physical distancing, youth considered the following questions: How is Indigeneity (re)claimed or denied during this pandemic? How does physical distancing and self-quarantine impact relationships to the land and to the community? Based on conversations on how youth wanted to express themselves, participants were delivered art-kits containing supplies to make tile art on wood panels to respond to these questions. The following feature shares artwork from two of the seven youth who engaged in this program. Read more

Two Poems

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Nitica Sakharwade

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