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

Duality

In Issue 01: In Transit

Connor Chin-Quee

“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

In Issue 01: In Transit

Meseret Abebe

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

The Boat

In Issue 01: In Transit

Jordan Wallace

... Read more

Why Do the Fare Inspectors Look Armed?

In Issue 01: In Transit

Eve Nyandwi

Every LRT car I hop into will visit Conestoga Station and Fairview Station, even if I don’t witness them. Even if I’ll never truly know for sure. I keep the volume in my headphones low enough that... Read more

True Blue

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Nicole Smith

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

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

The Tower

In Issue 2: Space(s)

Connor Chin-Quee

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