Issue VI // Spring 2026



Images above, from left to right:
“Grace” by Chris Bettencourt, cover of issue 6 using the piece “Madre” by Chris Bettencourt, “Carry On” by Chris Bettencourt
please read before diving into this issue:
Dear Readers,
The theme for Issue 6 is calm // storm. This theme stemmed from a bone-deep rage at the injustice of gun violence, oppression, genocide, and systemic poverty and racism. Below is the story that ignited this theme.
I am an inner-city high school teacher. In May 2024, on graduation day, some of the graduated seniors and their loved ones came back to our school’s campus to utilize the grounds to celebrate together. Later in the evening, while they were celebrating, a car drove onto campus and the occupants of the car began shooting. One of our graduates, Lamon Wiggins, was shot and killed while trying to push a friend out of the way of gunfire. He had just graduated hours prior, and he was excited for his future.
A week after Lamon’s passing, as I was walking through the hallways of our school, I noticed that our 12th grade English teachers had hung up "Where I'm From" poems in the hallway that their students had written right before graduation. As I was scanning them, Lamon’s poem caught my eye. While short and sweet, it talks about the little details of his childhood and upbringing that he remembers fondly. And in that moment, my heart broke a second time. For Lamon and his family. For his mother, who lost her only child. For the gentle moments that made Lamon who he was, only for violence to take him in the end. For injustice and the systemic violence that too often ends in a mother holding her child’s lifeless body - both here in America and abroad. For families ripped apart and lives taken far too soon. For the unfairness of preventable loss, almost always stemming from greed, corruption, and power.
I wanted Lamon’s poem to be seen. I wanted his story to be heard. So now, with Lamon’s mother’s blessing, his poem is the start of this issue. From a calm, gentle, nostalgic beginning, to a violent, unfair death, Lamon’s story encompasses the two ends of the spectrum that I hope to create with the theme of “calm // storm”.
This issue is formatted differently from our previous issues. Instead of being separated by genre, this issue is a spectrum that starts with calm, and gradually works its way up to storm (i.e. rage, grief, etc.). If you're looking to read this issue the way it's intended to be read, you'll want to read these pieces in order. This is, by far, the longest issue we've ever curated. It is also the most art-heavy. This was intentional.
As you journey through this issue, I ask that you give yourself space to feel. You might notice intense emotion with some (or many) of these works. Sit with them - both the stories and art, as well as your emotions.
Allow yourself to grieve. And then when you're ready, take that grief and let it simmer.
Then, do something with it. Create, fight, scream. Speak up for the oppressed and marginalized. Find a way to integrate yourself into the fight against fascism, oppression, and injustice. I want you to hold onto the way you feel as you read this issue, and I want you to never let it go. That rage, that grief, that devastation - let it ignite something in you. I beg you to never let anyone or anything snuff out that fire.
We're in this together. We fight, together. We create change, together.
You are never alone. You matter. Your words matter. Your art matters. I love you. Please, never stop creating.
-Ophelia M. (editor)
Issue 6: calm // storm


