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Perhaps, and Yet

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Perhaps, and Yet

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

and yet

perhaps
a different night
I’d have succumbed through dinner
allured by speckled green eyes dancing
to the flicker of burning candles
captivated by calloused hands flowing with eloquence
with the warmth of his endearments
with the power he wielded
perhaps

and yet
such circumstances were not.

to oblivion I will carry them
speckled green eyes and calloused hands

for the realization came with foreign touches
with his sharp intakes of the winter air

Bitter Wind by Signe Constable

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Related reading: “I Know You Remember” by Christina McRae

To Man, From Woman

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Beyoncé. Anne Hathaway. Hillary Clinton.
Angela Merkel. Susan Wojcicki. Ellen Degeneres.
There is no more powerful force than an adamant woman.

Does this sound familiar?
We have been fighting for our rights for generations.
Who says you get to decide what is best for us?

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.

Why are ninety percent of rape victims female?
Why do women earn only seventy-seven cents for every dollar a man earns?
Why does Donald Trump decide whether or not abortions are right for us?

Why is our society pushing us to believe that we are not as acceptable as you?
Women are not used for your gratification.

Does how beautiful I appear to be appal you?
I do not present myself for your objectification.

Women are full of energy, new ideas, and enough power to change the world.
So why are we being treated like we aren’t equal?

To: Man, From: Woman
Please treat us as your equivalent.

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Related reading: “Rant” by Megan Neaves

Even If….

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Even If….

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.

Even if the binds of the world begin to unthread,
We must stitch them back together.

Even if around every corner we turn
we are asked to indulge in the worst,
We must say “no.”

Even if the things money can’t buy,
are challenged by the things it can,
We must choose love.

Even if the shadows cast doubt
We must shine our light.

Even if…
We must persevere.

Out of this World by Lily Brigham-Gale

X, Y, Z…?

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Much has been made of the gulfs across recent generations: workaholic Boomers, lost Generation Xers, entitled Millennials or Generation Y—and now the plugged-in Generation Z.

But imagine a woman from each generation as a young, aspiring writer:

Baby Boomer Brenda scribbles ideas on loose leaf with a felt-tip pen. Later, she types out her story on a Smith-Corona. When Brenda needs to fill in facts, she flips through the card catalogue at the local library. If there’s no book on the subject, she consults her friends when they gather at the Dairy Queen.

Gen X Jessica jots notes in a knock-off Filofax. Later, she transcribes her story on the word processor in the basement rec room. When Jessica needs to fill in facts, she scans the computerized catalogue at the library or calls her friends on the wall phone in the kitchen.

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.

Gen Z Zoe thumbs notes into her phone. Later, she composes a poem from those notes, also on her phone. When Zoe needs to fill in facts, she speaks into her phone to ask Siri or she texts her friends.

Gaping gulf or a smooth continuum? Is Brenda’s world bigger than Zoe’s or smaller? Is Zoe more connected or less?

Based on the youth I met while editing this issue of Understorey Magazine, I’d say writing tools have certainly evolved but the basic motivation—even compulsion—to write hasn’t shifted that much. Writers, and particularly youth writers, still wrestle with life’s big, tough questions: Who am I? Where do I fit in? How can I express my own power within the power structures around me?

In this issue, for example, Meredith Bullock describes how she discovered the power of her mind when that of her hands proved unreliable. Elayna Foran uses video to explore her place in a changing political landscape. And Guyleigh Johnson takes a broad look at inequalities across generations and how they affect her life and community of North-end Dartmouth.

Means of exploring these issues may have changed but I’d guess that if sixteen-year-old Brenda and her friends spent a day with sixteen-year-old Zoe and her friends (and brought Jessica and Megan along), they’d have a lot to share. I suspect they’d discover an articulate and diverse group of women connected to each other by their curiosity, their ingenuity and their desire to create.

With great confidence, I turn Issue 10 of Understorey Magazine over to today’s youth.

Night Feathers by Larissa Hauck

Your Words Don’t Hurt Us

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Your Words Don’t Hurt Us

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
Your words don’t hurt us
I love her

Fags!
I turn to her and reach out
She steps away
Your words don’t hurt us
I love her

Faggot!
I pocket my hands and drop my gaze
She is not here
Your words hurt us
I loved her…

I still do

Meow by Erin Hollingshead

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Related reading: Preview of Double Pregnant by Natalie Meisner