Issue Ten: Youth on Power
Millennial Megan enjoys a latte at Starbucks and outlines a story in her Moleskine notebook. Later, she sits on her bed with her laptop, expanding her ideas into a finished draft. When Megan needs to fill in facts, she searches Google or calls friends on her cellphone.
I was powerless over this plastic girl / And so I went to my computer / Where I entered into a world / Where I could manipulate everything / With only a blank page / And a keyboard / And my mind / And everything I had wanted to pretend / Tumbled out in words
In Guyana, everyone can tell you are from “out-away” by your clothes, your accent and for the simple fact that they don’t know you in a country where everyone knows everyone. One night I was chatting with my cousin Kiesha. We were identical in age but I already assumed we would be different.
We must persevere. Even if the hands of society grab and pull at us, trying to mould our bodies, our souls, We must break away. Even if the words of others speak to the darkest thoughts, We must protect our minds. Even if the lens only filters black and white we must see in colour.
speckled green eyes and calloused hands / focal points to his form / an achromatic shadow that looms / the realization comes with foreign touches / with his sharp intakes of the winter air / he dismantles every fragment of / my being shattered on damp pavement he lets his footsteps echo as he exits
Our ability to have and raise a child, Does not limit our ability to be educated. Why do we have to let you push us around? Does our strength scare you? Standing up for ourselves is not an act of rebellion. In this time of hate and sexism, Feminists are not chauvinist.
“Words cannot express the gratitude I feel towards you. You saved me from a treacherous fate, a painful death I would have endured alone. Thank you, Zephyr, mistress of mayhem, bringer of the windswept and gentle breeze of the west. I am forever in your debt.” “You forgot queen of the sky.”
Queers! I laugh and pull her close She leans her head on my shoulder Your words don’t hurt us I love her / Freaks! I chuckle and squeeze her hand She smiles weakly Your words don’t hurt us I love her / Dykes! I wince and look to her She drops my hand….
One day while exiting the school, she noticed a group of kids smoking outside and she thought they looked cool and tough and everyone else seemed to be mildly afraid of them. Everyone called them the druggy group. She decided she would become part of this group.
Power / thought they took it away / when they exchanged our crowns for chains / Pain / Embedded /not knowing where I was headed / Lost / I tried to remember the footprints / In the sand / I followed the man / to a ship / enslaved / On it engraved “Blacks only”