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
She Gets There
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
Acknowledging the Land
Land acknowledgments are at risk of becoming quotidian; it’s now standard for Canadian litmags to include one on their inside cover. We wanted to be more intentional in our acknowledgment of the land by featuring a mural co-designed by Indigenous and Western artists. We wanted Indigenous youth to respond to the question: “how do you want settlers to acknowledge the land?” This mural was held on display at 220 King St West for a week, and now resides at the Pins and Needles Fabric Company on Fredrick Street. This collaboration is just the beginning: we will continue to stand in solidarity with Indigenous peoples on this land and internationally. While remaining open to critique so that we may continue to grow, we hope our mural provides a model for how truth and reconciliation can be realized through the arts. 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
The Mosaic of Brokenness
(today) I cried, driving to the grocery store, for no reason, other than, I remembered (so when does it end?) When I am accomplished and successful, is that when I feel whole again? I desper... Read more
The New KW
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
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
Enigma
Listen to Seemab read her poem: Textile · Enigma - Seemab ZahraWhat mystery do you hide in your inability to endure a dream that is empty of my existence? Now I am in disbelief; For you have become t... 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
Vermillion
The day starts for the poor long before it does for the rich; for the ruled long before it does for the rulers; for the sun long before it does for the moon; for the Indians long before it does for th... 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
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
Fleece Brutality
Say it loudFor those with fabrics of beingTattered, brokenReturning to the Earth they were sewn fromFor those who wishTheir bodies were wrapped in cloth dyed differentlyNot having dying instantlyWith ... Read more
Year 2020
I see metal falling from the sky.I see metal soaring up high,and monsters rising from the ground,sucking up humans.You say 2020 has awakened all the sleeping monsters.I say these monsters were busy in... Read more
Vermillion (Digital Storytelling Workshop)
The day starts for the poor long before it does for the rich; for the ruled long before it does for the rulers... Read more
When I First Stepped on the Moon (Digital Storytelling Workshop)
Man first stepped on the moon in 1969. I heard this when I was a child, barely seven or eight years. I started searching for more about it, but there was no internet in Pakistan... Read more