Issue 1: Borders
Contributors
Ariana Rahman – “The Veins of the Earth”
Cici Zhang – “porcelain doll”
Cici Zhang – “to 北京”
Nancy K – “The Fear of Fear”
Cyrus Rahbari – “Waves”
Maya Ahn – “Beyond Labels”
Sophia Hou – “Jiejie”
Claudia Wysocky – “Unfinished Exit”
Nayla Kanaan – “Divergent”
Mira Lambroza – “Chestburster”
Cait Roddam Jones – “Mad”
Editor's Note
Dear Reader,
Student Pedagogies for Social Change began as a small, local project during the early summer of 2024. Since then, we have received submissions from three countries and several states, and, with this geographical diversity, a plethora of voices advocating for community. Contributor Ariana Rahman reflects, “The earth does not know borders.” What we have so often experienced, however, are the human-created structures that have imposed borders upon the soil, marking nations and states, barring ideology and hindering thought and connection.
Academics like to use big words, but we at Student Pedagogies have learned that sometimes jargon-filled pieces obstruct the understanding of a broader audience. We believe that true liberation—the fundamental dismantling of borders within society—only exists as it does when it uplifts everyone at once.
Liberation in itself is a word we often use but don’t actively consider its meaning. This inaugural issue aims to question traditional notions of liberation, asking its audience to consider, instead, what the word means for them as an individual. I believe there are many kinds of liberation—including, but not confined to, liberation of the mind, of the body, of community, belief, thought, and far more. “One of the fundamental aspects of being human / Is [our] right to a voice,” Nayla Kanaan writes.
Our theme of borders is not an effort to divide us, but, rather, to make visible the divides in order to dismantle them and bring all people together in a safe, accepting space. In itself, the concept of “borders” is endlessly broad, and I am grateful to share wise words from a plethora of diverse, compassionate voices. Take, for example, Cyrus Rahbari’s invitation for peace through the continuous rhythm of water: “We brave the storm / to reform / we let the wave pass / to surpass today / we love each other for what we are / to be that wave of change.” In her critical reflection of Asian American representation in contemporary media, Maya Ahn concludes, “true progress demands stories that confront complexities, not just to include underrepresented voices, but to genuinely amplify them in all their authenticity.” Her ending line embodies Student Pedagogies’ mission to resist performative liberation by allowing many voices, stories, and opinions to exist in communion and conversation with one another under the same spotlight.
Thus, in accordance with our mission of unity, solidarity, and the dismantling of division, we have decided not to differentiate or separate poetry, prose, and critical reflections within this issue—a somewhat unorthodox decision. We’ve also chosen to present each contributor’s work on the same webpage. Our choices aim to illustrate the ways in which writing can bring communities together by integrating ideas, beliefs, hopes, and to erase borders between us all. We hope that having poetry and prose side by side, author by author, will give our literary magazine the cohesive and united feel we aim to cultivate. As Claudia Wysocky believes, despite all that remains incomplete on this Earth, “as long as there are words on a page, / there is still hope for an unfinished exit / to find its proper / ending.”
In community,
Madeleine Moon-Chun, Editor-in-Chief
Student Pedagogies for Social Change
Ariana Rahman - "The Veins of the Earth"
After Mahasweta Devi
The earth does not know borders.
It breathes in whole, vast sighs,
its rivers coursing like veins
through lands we have divided
with knives made of greed and fear.
But still, we draw our lines—
on paper, on soil,
on the backs of men bent with exile.
We call the wounds freedom
and lick the blood of belonging
from their edges.
What is a border, but a forgetting?
A forgetting of how the wind moves
untethered by flags,
how the sea refuses to halt
at the shore.
A forgetting of how our bodies,
born of dust and saltwater,
are stitched from the same trembling earth.
Each fence post is a prayer,
nailed to the gospel of power.
Each checkpoint, a pulpit
where the sermons of control
are shouted in the names of safety,
purity, and nationhood.
But who are we protecting
when the wolves are inside the gates?
Do you see the rivers now?
They are red with the stories
of those who dared to cross,
their names drowned in silence,
their dreams scattered like ashes
on the wrong side of the line.
Someday, the earth will remember us—
not for our flags,
or the borders we cut into its skin,
but for the weight of our forgetting.
And when it does,
it will rise,
its veins bursting with rage and flood,
to wash the lines away.
Ariana Rahman is a writer and visual artist whose work explores themes of social justice, equity, and historical trauma. Her writings have been featured in Gradaran Magazine and Arizona State University’s Normal Noise, blending storytelling with a passion for meaningful change.
Cici Zhang - "porcelain doll"
Broken & blue & / white irises leer bloodshot / & ma’am, isn’t she
hollow? defective? / yes, unsightly & glazed but / one-of-a-kind, sir,
transatlantic & / labeled made in china but / she’s american
as baseball & pie, / first oriental & now / occidental, striped
red-white-blue & sir, / exotic, starry-eyed but / collecting dust &
you’ll take her? fettle / her ruins & no, she’s dead / & blue & broken
Cici Zhang is a freshman at Gunn High School. Her work has been recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. Outside of writing, she enjoys listening to Phoebe Bridgers, obsessing over Pinterest moodboards, and spamming her friends.
Cici Zhang - "to 北京"
here: i’ll wax poetic
to a hometown that’s not mine.
how american is it to depict
饺子 in red, white, & blue?
pining for sweatshops & 高考
from air-conditioned suburbs
grows wearisome. (don’t you think?)
& here: i’ll throw in a few
mandarin characters, 茄子, (cheese!)
just to establish my authenticity.
dear reader, you won’t know
what i mean, but one must appear
sophisticated. (i’m sorry.) & of course,
there’s the ampersand,
my 朋友. (parentheticals, too.)
i can’t tell the difference between
一 (one) & — (em dash),
but neither can you.
in this ode, it doesn’t matter.
next, i’ll commentate on the state
of our political affairs,
emphasizing my 心痛. (translation:
indifference.) are you fooled
by my puppy-eyed words?
& now, a lament of 妈妈 & 爸爸,
figureheads who strike me, then
platter fruit (芒果, my favorite!)
to apologize. is it glorified?
just a bit? i’ll address the 读者
one more time, telling you
that i couldn’t write this poem without
google translate. (english to 中文.)
Cici Zhang is a freshman at Gunn High School. Her work has been recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. Outside of writing, she enjoys listening to Phoebe Bridgers, obsessing over Pinterest moodboards, and spamming her friends.
Nancy K - 'The Fear of Fear"
Fear is what our body feels, heart pumping fast, feeling like it will beat out of our chest in response to a potentially endangering situation. Sweat starts to take over our body, cold hands and feet, hair standing on end, and legs and hands starting to shake when we are afraid of something. Fear is the scariest emotion. According to the We all experience fear, and, when we do, it is when we are in a threatening, scary, dangerous, and uncomfortable situation. For many people, fear—whether the fear of fear or the fear of a specific moment—remains eternally in their minds. Numerous people develop fear on a daily basis, such as walking home alone in an unsafe place and a stranger is following you. Automatically, your brain starts to question who the person is or what they are trying to do. Your brain tries to warn you that you may be harmed, which might be why you start to walk faster or decide to call someone for help such as a parent/ guardian, or a friend. Other fears could be based on past experiences, common things that many people fear of such as spiders and insects, heights, and the ocean. Others could be how other people judge them based on how they look or how they act, or some people have anxiety which has to do with having fear and stress. Fears are unique to each individual, and my fears are the result of my personal experiences, which are specific to me and differ from others.
When I was around six years old, I had to flee Syria because of the war that now has been going on for more than ten years. It was extremely dangerous to stay in Syria, which is why my family decided to move to a safer place for us. Every day, I feared that I would be separated from my family. I went to school with fear that I would not go back home that day because there were always bombs, kidnapping and capturing kids and even adults, and so much more. Life was so terrifying. There were always thoughts in my head about not being alive the next day because many people died from the bombs and attacks. The war was traumatic. There was always a scary feeling inside of me because of all the traumatizing things I saw. I would always have to hear horrifying bombing sounds. I attempted to close my ears thinking that the eerie sound would vanish just how it would when someone wanted to avoid someone or something, but the sound still penetrated both my ears and my mind. Sadly, I can still hear them. Nothing can make those sounds magically disappear in my ears except for just moving somewhere else away from the trauma of the war.
My neighbors and some close family members died in front of my house. We had to leave that house because of what happened. Even though there was danger everywhere, our only option was to move from there. After we left that particular house, it was bombed and taken down. I do not remember every single moment of what I saw, but I remember enough to the point where I am still sometimes scared all the time. The situation got to the point where no one felt safe sending their kids to school or even outside. Even adults did not feel safe going out, but they had to because they were responsible for their family and trying to make them feel as safe as they could. We were such little kids. Why does a kid deserve to see so much at such a young age? Imagine having a thought every day about not knowing if you would see your family again or if you would be alive the next day. How would you feel about leaving everything behind such as your home, relatives, friends, and school? Then moving to a country where you have no idea what the culture, language, or traditions are, but you are seeking safety, so fleeing is your only hope?
After three days of staying outside at the border in the pitch black, freezing, terrifying conditions, we were able to get into Turkey. While on the walk to the border, I always held my mom’s hand tightly, too frightened to let go. We could not see what was in front of us. I remember I kept stepping on something bushy guessing that it was long grass or bushes. I kept tripping because there were dirt holes in the rough road. A couple of times something poked me, and I was scared that something would pop up out of nowhere. The only light source I could see was some light poles, so I felt safest holding my mom’s hand. Nothing could break free my hand from hers since I was holding her hand like a tight vise. Our journey to the Turkish border that day was just so terrifying, and no words can adequately tell my readers the fear I felt. After a couple of days staying in Turkey, the new culture and language felt strange and different to me. Living there was hard to settle in, but after a few weeks, I started to feel a bit more comfortable.
Slowly, my family and I started to go out and learned some basic Turkish phrases. There was a park near us, so my family would usually take me to have fun. I tried making friends while there, but I was not able to communicate fluently yet. I knew some basic statements and vocabulary to start a conversation, but I struggled to connect with the children. Even if I did not know how to communicate with them, I smiled brightly with respect and kindness, hoping that they would at least wave back or smile back. That was the way I would know if they were interested in playing with me, but even if they did not respond, I still acted in a kind manner. Just because I did not know their language did not mean that I could not play with them or be friends with them. After going to that park for a bit, I was able to make friends which is actually how I met my first best friend in Turkey. Things got better time by time, and I learned a lot from living in Turkey for almost two years. Once again, leaving everything behind was hard, as I had just started to feel comfortable in that place. At first, I was worried that people would not accept us there, and it would be hard getting used to everything in Turkey, but with time, I got used to it.
Fear has been something that I have experienced a lot in my life because of the journey that took me to be where I am today. Listening to my experience might be easy for people, but for me, my journey is mostly hard to explain because the flow of memories returns. My story is easy for people to read, but difficult for me to write because it brings back all the memories. I feel emotional and filled with fear and strength writing this essay, but I try holding my tears back because I know that those memories will never go away. I do not want some of them to go away because my memories will remind me of how strong I should be because of what I have already been through, and I must say that I am proud to be who I am.
Nancy K is a senior in high school from Syria. They decided to use a pseudonym for privacy and safety reasons.
Cyrus Rahbari - "Waves"
Waves crash and swirl in my brain
They drain my energy
And cause my pains
Waves carrying those on rafts
Fleeing from their pasts
Creating their new paths
Waves pulled by the moon
As she sees her lovely earth
drown in a fire
Waves splitting apart
what the ocean holds together
while tortuous weather
detethers us all
Waves that ebb and flow
as we tell our foes
We will take everything they own!
Waves we simply look at with honor
as they stay still
and dishonor us all
Instead let’s endeavor
to stop and hear
what they waves whisper
Instead let’s feel the wave wash over
Hold them near without fear
come together embrace to better
and let the hate in
but don’t give in
Hear the waves
don’t fear them
tell their stories
don’t take their glories
So when we listen
we release our inhibitions
create love and embrace
not to condemn or erase
we let the wave wash over
We brave the storm
to reform
we let the wave pass
to surpass today
we love each other for what we are
to be that wave of change
Cyrus Rahbari is a high school student passionate about biology, social justice, and public speaking. He is the president of his high school’s Biology Club and Greater Middle Eastern Alliance. He is also a member of Model UN, Debate, Academic bowl, Science Olympiad, and International Club, where he has read his poetry and other writings. In his free time, he enjoys playing the cello and piano.
Maya Ahn - "Beyond Labels: Redefining Asian Representation in To All The Boys I've Loved Before"
Critical Essay
To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before is a best-selling teen romance book by Jenny Han published in 2014 and later adapted into a movie in 2018. The story follows Lara Jean Covey (Lana Condor), a white and Korean biracial high schooler, whose private love letters are accidentally mailed out, leading to chaos in her life. As she deals with this chaos, Lara Jean explores complicated relationships with several boys, especially Peter Kavinsky (Noah Centineo), a popular white jock. She is raised by her white American father after her Korean mother’s death and supported by her sisters, Margot (Janel Parrish) and Kitty (Anna Cathcart), as they adjust to life in different ways.
In the book To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, the primary character with whom the audience is invited to identify is Lara Jean Covey. Lara Jean is depicted as multifaceted because she is intelligent, maintains a close relationship with her family, and has nuanced romantic interests. Notably, she shows her emotions by writing love letters to her crushes that she chooses not to send due to her fear of taking chances and stepping outside her comfort zone, as demonstrated by her reluctance to make new friends. However, throughout the book, she starts to take more chances, especially by pretending to have a fake relationship with Peter Kavinsky. Through this fabricated arrangement, Peter opens up a whole new friend group and a higher social status experience than her norm. Additionally, Lara Jean is portrayed with emotional depth as illustrated by moments of her laughing and crying with friends and family. Her choice of stylish and unique outfits enhances her portrayal as a fashionable and relatable individual. Surprisingly, she is partnered with Peter, a popular and attractive character, which places him in the social spotlight and aligns him with the typical white romance interest. However, Peter is shown to have growth in his personality as he becomes caring and respectful to Lara Jean and her family.
Furthermore, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before offers a new shift in how Asian characters are represented in mainstream media. It features an Asian female lead who breaks free from the overused stereotypes of Asians. Lara Jean is portrayed as a strong, multidimensional character whose intelligence is just one of many complex traits that define her. This representation goes against the simplistic and extremist portrayals of Asians seen in the media. In addition, Lara Jean is a relatable character because “her ethnicity is an important part of who she is, but it’s also not the heart of her identity” (Truffaut-Wong). She doesn't fit into the mold of the Asian model minority—typical academic high achiever—as many Asian people see her as “not just a character that looks like [them], she’s a character [they] actually could be” (Truffaut-Wong). Lara Jean is a meaningful character who connects with Asian communities because it empowers Asian viewers and highlights the need for diverse representations that reflect their identities. The narrative shows diversity because Lara Jean’s sisters are Asian, and it also has an Asian protagonist. Additionally, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before responsibly represents women as the central themes revolve around girlhood in a relatable way, where Lara Jean navigates the experiences of love and high school life, which normalizes the experience of an Asian girl living a typical life. She isn’t restricted by her race, but it's also not completely ignored as it is a vital part of who she is, which helps audiences relate more to Lara Jean. The book includes moments where Lara Jean celebrates the Korean New Year and enjoys Korean food, but it does so without making a big deal out of it. These instances resist the stereotypic tendencies to announce, “Look how diverse we are!” Instead, it subtly integrates her culture into the story, reflecting the reality of her experiences without resorting to the typical tokenism often used to please predominately white, “progressive” audiences who tend to expect overly obvious and typical displays of diversity in films to consider it acceptable. In her relationship with Peter, Lara Jean defies the stereotype that an Asian girl cannot be with a popular guy. Rather than beg for his attention or trying to whiten herself, she makes it clear that she can be with Peter without sacrificing her cultural identity. Lara Jean doesn’t have to change or hide her ethnicity to be accepted, defying the stereotype that Asian people can’t have boyfriends because all they care about is school.
Although Han's novel is diverse and represents Asians responsibly, it has some issues below the surface. To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before is a racialized story, but “it just focuses almost 100% on Lara Jean’s Asianness and not her hapaness” (Jesu Lee). Han barely mentions how Lara Jean is biracial and what her experience is like, only catering to the manageable idealization that Asians cannot be biracial. Being biracial significantly shapes one's identity and contributes to their uniqueness and authenticity. However, Han chooses to hide Lara Jean’s biracial identity rather than embrace it. Presenting Lara Jean solely as Asian simplifies her identity in a way that feels safe for creators, especially when white directors may view her biracial background as too complex or difficult to portray accurately. This approach reflects a broader issue, as “the answer may lie in the collision between societal white idealization and an ideas marketplace that rewards those, especially minorities, who accommodate that idealization” (Jesu Lee). This dynamic can result in performative progressivism, where creators aim to appear diverse but inadvertently cater to a narrower, white-centered narrative that overlooks the rich complexities of biracial experiences. Although To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before includes some aspects of Lara Jean’s Asian culture, it is not very authentic. Her Korean culture doesn’t reflect what it actually means to be Korean or the morals and values that one lives but just the marketable aspects of Asian that non-Asians think are Asian culture. This limited portrayal is problematic because it doesn’t show the uniqueness and authenticity of Korean culture and simplifies it to its commodified features.
In the movie, the actor who plays Lara Jean, Lana Condor, is not Korean but Vietnamese, indicating that the casting decisions did not include a Korean actress for one of the few films featuring a Korean protagonist. This casting choice puts all Asian people into a monolithic group just because they look the same, but in reality, each culture of Asians is unique and different from each other. A Vietnamese actress cannot represent a Korean girl authentically because she is not Korean, as it invalidates and undermines the distinctiveness of Korean culture, making Koreans feel like their culture isn’t important or valued.
Overall, this novel is a step in the right direction by breaking away from many of the common stereotypes of Asian people in the media, which can help Asian people see that they don’t always have to fit into the mold of the model minority and that they can live a normal high school life. This representation contrasts with the typical representations of Asians due to the high exposure they see as the norm, creating a refreshing and promising advancement for Asian people in the media. For non-Asians, this story could change their perspectives on how they view Asians, presenting a character who doesn’t conform to stereotypes, and ultimately helping society move away from the offensive, conventional images attached to their perceptions.
That said, Lara Jean’s Asian culture is represented both responsibly and irresponsibly. On one hand, there are no harmful stereotypes tied to her identity, and she is portrayed as a realistic character whose culture is not exploited repeatedly for 'diversity points' or tokenism. On the other hand, the representation doesn’t authentically capture the uniqueness of her cultural background, but instead, the narrative prioritizes pleasing a predominantly white audience by using superficial cultural elements, ultimately missing an opportunity to deliver a more meaningful and responsible portrayal of Asian identity.
To improve the representation of Asians in To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, the story would need to delve deeper into how racial issues shape Lara Jean’s character. Han missed the opportunity to add complexity to Lara Jean’s Asian identity and integrate it into her development. Instead, her identity is used as a passing characterization rather than a meaningful element, reducing it to a racial check box. If movies and books are going to include the aspect of race, then they must include it well, addressing deeper issues that create an impact on people. Characters should be rich and layered, with a clear understanding of how their racial backgrounds shape their traits and experiences. If a character's racial background is deeply tied to their traits and experiences, then swapping out their race should fundamentally alter the character.
Jenny Han’s novel effectively introduces an Asian character into mainstream media. However, she does not take the risk of including cultural depth in Lara Jean’s character development, which leaves young adult readers with no breakthrough advancements in media representation. Ultimately, true progress demands stories that confront complexities, not just to include underrepresented voices, but to genuinely amplify them in all their authenticity.
Works Cited
Han, Jenny. To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. New York, Simon & Schuster Bfyr, 2018.
Lee, Chris. “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before” Has Creepy Racial Things Going On.” Plan a Mag, 20 Aug.
2018, planamag.com/to-all-the-boys-ive-loved-before-has-creepy-racial-things-going-on/.
Netflix. “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before | Official Trailer [HD] | Netflix.” YouTube, 26 July 2018,
www.youtube.com/watch?v=555oiY9RWM4.
Truffaut-Wong, Olivia. “Thank You, “to All the Boys”: A Bittersweet Goodbye to Lara Jean Covey.”
Www.refinery29.com, 17 Feb. 2021, www.refinery29.com/en-us/2021/02/10317542/to-all-the-boys-movies-asian-representati on.
Maya Ahn (she/her) is an 8th grader at Cliff Valley School in Atlanta, GA. She has been recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards for her critical essay. Maya enjoys reading, especially speculative fiction and YA books and loves seeing novels adapted into films. She enjoys playing tennis, as well as playing both the piano and guitar during her free time.
Sophia Hou - "Jiejie"
A slam poem
I’ve always been proud of my Chinese heritage.
When I was a kid, I paraded it around like a trophy,
as if being Asian somehow made me better
than everyone else.
I was so proud that I told everyone in my kindergarten class I had five sisters in China.
Nevermind that I’d miscounted,
or that “Jiejie”,
“big sister”,
Was only a nickname for “cousin”,
because my sisters loved me
and I loved my sisters.
Fast forward ten years.
Between standing proud at every good grade
and hiding in my arms to avoid pronouncing my last name,
My pride transformed into a sort of embarrassment.
I wasn’t embarrassed about being Chinese, no,
but more so about not being an authentic one.
I couldn’t speak Chinese well,
and knew little about the trends and customs.
Last summer
I visited my cousins.
Now, I don’t call my cousins “Jiejie” anymore.
I don’t even call them “cousin”, or
by their names
Because after I spent almost half my life—six years—
Away from them,
I don’t know what to call them anymore.
Sitting around the same coffee table from my childhood,
I was ashamed to admit
I’d sort of forgotten
they’d existed.
I realized that unlike my forever home,
my cousins had completely changed,
leaving me
to stare at their unrecognizable faces and wonder,
where did the hugging and the hand holding go,
when did “my sisters”
turn into “six strangers”?
Sometimes, I feel like an imposter.
Ethnicity isn’t identity,
and family isn’t familiarity
but I want it to be
for me, because
I want to be ideal and
I pretend I don’t feel
Like peeling
off the layers of American
of alien
like it’s never gonna be enough
enough to stop appearing
like a foreigner, and I want to scream
“Jiejie, blood’s still thicker than water”, and
“I feel like a last-minute decision thrown on our family altar”, but
Every time I see you with someone else
whispering secrets,
giggling like children
and leaning on each other’s shoulders,
Lost in a world without your strange, awkward cousin
My heart tightens in jealousy
in longing
and I can’t talk
I want to be the one next to you so bad
I can’t bear it
Is it selfish that
I want you to call me “Meimei”,
“Little sister”, like you used to,
to look at me
really, look at me, and
to talk to me
not because you have to
but because you want to?
I want us to be best friends again
to laugh and play like we used to
because I want you back
because I’m too weak to ask, and
My pride doesn’t even matter anymore.
How can I claim to be Chinese
When I can’t even speak?
How can I call you “big sisters”
When every little thing feels like a blister?
I wish we could still love each other
So I could still say “I have six sisters in China”
and not ache whenever I think of the summer
I wish you still stood up for me
when our parents made fun of me
and it was okay if you didn’t understand my stutter
I wish I could still hold your hand
like we used to do as little kids
and you would lean on my shoulder
I wish you were still my big sister
my “Jiejie”
cause I really miss her
I wish I was still your little sister
your “Meimei”
not just a relative you don’t remember
I wish I wasn’t so stuck in the past
maybe then I could see the future
and then I’d know what to say to make you feel better,
but
a wish is just a wish
and I’m over believing this, so
I’m sorry.
For not sticking together
for not staying forever
for not asking whatsoever.
I’m sorry I won’t ever know you
and you won’t ever know me,
I’m sorry I’m always tongue-tied,
I’m sorry we can’t visit each other,
I’m sorry we can’t be sisters,
I’m sorry there are things I can’t justify,
But
Most of all,
I’m sorry I left
Without saying
Goodbye.
Sophia Hou is ninth grader at Paideia high school, as well as the leader of the SLAM Poetry club. She loves art and writing and has won a few awards previously with Scholastic.
Claudia Wysocky - "Unfinished Exit"
I keep thinking
about the time in high school
when you drew
me
a map of the city,
I still have it somewhere.
It was so easy
to get lost
in a place where all the trees
look the same.
And now
every time I see
a missing person's poster
stapled to a pole,
all I can think is
that could have been me.
Missing,
disappeared.
But there are no
posters for people
who just never came back
from vacation, from college,
from life.
You haven't killed yourself
because you'd have to commit to a
single exit.
What you wouldn't give to be your cousin Catherine,
who you watched
twice in one weekend get strangled nude
in a bathtub onstage
by the actor who once
filled your mouth with quarters at
your mother's funeral.
The curtains closed and opened again.
We applauded until
our hands were sore.
But you couldn't shake the image of
her lifeless body,
the way she hung there like a
marionette with cut strings.
And now every time you try to write a poem,
it feels like a
eulogy.
So even though you haven't
found the perfect ending yet,
you keep writing.
For Catherine, for yourself, for all the lost
souls
who never got their own
missing person's poster.
Because as long as there are words on a page,
there is still hope for an unfinished exit
to find its proper
ending.
Claudia Wysocky, a Polish writer and poet based in New York, is known for her diverse literary creations, including fiction and poetry. Claudia also shares her personal journey and love for writing on her own blog, and she expresses her literary talent as an immigrant raised in post-communism Poland.
Nayla Kanaan - "Divergent"
A slam poem
One of the fundamental aspects of being human
Is your right to a voice
You say you treat everyone with humanity
But you don’t listen to voices who sound different
And you live in a society
Where if someone questions you
You ask “did I stutter?”
As if that would have made it invalid
Where people don’t consider themselves ableist
If they can’t see what makes you disabled
Where my headphones are seen as disrespect
And people scold me to look them in the eyes
No it is human nature to search for whom they are greater than
So they can look down from a pedestal
We are taught early to find the distinct
We spot the difference
Find which of the three doesn’t belong
We transform special into an insult
Conformity is the backbone of society
What is unique is by nature grotesque
The first bird cut off its wings
So it wouldn’t be shunned
By the beings still grounded
What is not uniform is defective
Ostracized to the back of the clearance isle
Given at half price
To whatever sorry soul will take it
No one remembers mutilation is the key to survival
Evolution is surrounded by change
We try to make it great again
Without qualifying when it was great
Several of what we call disabilities
Are evolutionary traits that haven't left
We aren't broken
You changed the world and now we don't quite fit
In the depths of the ocean everything is blind
You grab a flashlight and call them disabled
You don't call your flashlight an accommodation
You offer them to the fish
And claim it's their fault they no longer fit
In the world you broke and called improved
Ability doesn't define disability
Averages define difference
We use difference to define disability
None of us fly
Or breathe underwater
To the fish and the birds we're broken
It's easy to be normal
When you define normalcy
You call my headphones an accommodation
But I wear them because my hearing
Is sharper
Better
More sensitive
And the world you built is to loud
I'm the one with the greatest ability
Yet you look down on me
Average is not the greatest
Yet difference is detriment to value
Maybe the system is broken
I'm not
Nayla Kanaan is 18 years old. They have been writing poetry since elementary school and focus their poetry mostly on social justice issues. They have published poetry and essays. They like Pokémon and playing dungeons and dragons.
Mira Lambroza - "Chestburster"
There is something Inside my body
It scratches at the meat of its home
pulsating with a rhythm that sounds an awful lot
like my heartbeat but is NOT
I would do anything to be rid of it,
I tell myself
But removing it would kill me just as surely
as Sometimes, when that awful pulsing
becomes too much,
When it feels like that parasitic love is strangling
I wonder if I am it and it is me
If it has taken root in one of the many chambers
of my heart and become one with it
Given up on hatching, content to simply
transform its cage into something neither i nor It recognize
Mira Lambroza (she/they) is a writer, Game Master, and professional high schooler from NYC. She loves her dog, Bizzy, telling stories, and coming up with ideas for stories she probably won’t write.
Cait Roddam Jones - "Mad"
Every great part of me is here:
Existing
In the comfort of my madness.
I can put a face on it—
Dress it up to suit you.
They don’t care much for girls with gifts,
But a looking glass can’t lie.
Favour me about your interests—
I could mimic them like a bird—
My senses murdering dreams.
I’ll cater to your thoughts
As you speak them,
And wash your feet with *nard—
I came out fully formed and
And fFools would consider this luck.
We are all born free of sin
But never sorrow.
What if I were fiction?
Parchment pulse for skin and muscle—
I give you one of me each night.
But who will chase the game away?
*nard – a precious and costly perfume mentioned in the Bible.
Cait Roddam Jones is an eighteen-year-old actor, writer, and musician. She has trained with the UK’s National Youth Theatre before going on to work with Shakespeare’s Globe in London. In August 2023, she professionally staged her one-woman play at the Camden People’s Theatre. The recurring themes within Cait’s poetry stem from issues close to her heart, such as intersectional feminism and mental health. Her biggest literary inspirations include Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf and Emily Brontë.