Margins Magazine - Volume 3 Issue 1
2020 has been a year of immense change and upheaval thus far, with our idea around what is normal challenged in the midst of a pandemic. In this midst of these volatile times, our team at Margins Magazine has come together to create Volume 3 Issue 1 of our publication, revolving around the theme of CHANGE. In this issue, our writers have worked hard to bring you pieces that critically discuss the realities of the current moment from advocacy effort across different fields to issues such as domestic violence and colourist. At #UTSC, we connect with Radio FWD and UTERN at UTSC to learn how campus groups are affected during the pandemic and how they are evolving their programming while staying connected with students. We’ve received amazing creative submissions from members of our local community and around the world that have allowed us to curate this issue with stories that truly represent the heart, soul, and pulse of the current times. Bringing together all these voices in Margins has been a true labour of love. We truly hope that the stories, words, and art within Margins resonate with you. Follow us on Instagram @wtcmargins & LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/company/margins-magazine!
2020 has been a year of immense change and upheaval thus far, with our idea around what is normal challenged in the midst of a pandemic. In this midst of these volatile times, our team at Margins Magazine has come together to create Volume 3 Issue 1 of our publication, revolving around the theme of CHANGE.
In this issue, our writers have worked hard to bring you pieces that critically discuss the realities of the current moment from advocacy effort across different fields to issues such as domestic violence and colourist. At #UTSC, we connect with Radio FWD and UTERN at UTSC to learn how campus groups are affected during the pandemic and how they are evolving their programming while staying connected with students.
We’ve received amazing creative submissions from members of our local community and around the world that have allowed us to curate this issue with stories that truly represent the heart, soul, and pulse of the current times.
Bringing together all these voices in Margins has been a true labour of love. We truly hope that the stories, words, and art within Margins resonate with you.
Follow us on Instagram @wtcmargins & LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/company/margins-magazine!
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MARGINS<br />
MARGINS<br />
I think of my new pink hair, how it’s proud under the sun. Would it catch your eyes, or<br />
would it deter them? I don’t know if I want to know.<br />
You once said black was not my colour. But what was mine? In stolen minutes of<br />
contentment, I decided I was okay. I decided that that was enough happiness for me,<br />
even if it was not profitable. It came at the cost of your anger, not that I cared for<br />
our blueprint of a bridge, but the anger that crossed the ocean anyway—the only cost<br />
allowed to stand on my shoulders.<br />
You held my hand. I gasped. Tears collecting in my eyes. And you said: “I could hit<br />
you, but I am better than that.” Somehow, I would have preferred a physical bruise.<br />
Somehow, you achieved the same effect without any trace. A bruise that found no one to<br />
blame, so it blamed the skin. I take the tears back.<br />
I think of the length of my hair, how I could never cut it out. It asks for commands of<br />
your hands, not mine. And never a barber’s, of course.<br />
I called my mother. She picked up the third time. She asked why I had called, and then<br />
greeted me. Suddenly, I was angry at you. Enraged, infuriated, resentful. It awoke in me<br />
like passion in the kid who, tired of missing out on account of his anxiety, decides to go<br />
taste the world. I told her. She told me: “let the baby arrive.” The kid felt awkward the<br />
whole time, and his thoughts ate him up; so he let the weight of his shoulders drag him<br />
all the way back to his room. I take the anger back.<br />
I think of how you wanted my hair tied. I think of how you wanted me tied.<br />
When I ran, you were there to watch. You took your heir and then slammed the door shut.<br />
I think of doors. How they can be opened to let you in, they can be closed to trap you in,<br />
they can be opened to kick you out, and they can be closed to shut you out. How that wood<br />
held power over me.<br />
So, I got rid of the cloth around my hair to protest.<br />
But I take that silk, along with the three minutes to put it on, back. This hijab belongs right<br />
there, right where you wanted it. Right where my hands laid it down and cherished the<br />
gentle sheath in its vibrant colour. It will never be yours.<br />
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