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
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
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
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
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
The Boat
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True Blue
Elvis isn’t dead. He lives in Kitchener, Ontario, on a bench outside the grocery store. “One for the money!” I’m always tempted to say, as I dump a pathetic amount of change into his blistery ... Read more
A Plate Away
Listen to Tyra read from her piece: Textile · Tyra Forde - A Plate AwayMy grandparents have lived in the same three-bedroom house in Cambridge since they immigrated to Canada from Bridgetown, Barbado... Read more
Skin Color Pencil Crayon
As a kid who loved art time in elementary school, I’d get psyched and messy with vibrant colors, textures, and liquids. So much so that I barely noticed the glittery yellow, blue, and pink that stai... 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
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