Vol.04 Issue.01

As this magazine encompassed more and more ethnicities, we found the intention was not segregate the literature between them, nor to make the voices indistinguishable altogether.

Our mission is defined by the intent of each artist featured here. To “blend” cultures may be too specific of a word, and it is relative to the purpose of the one writing. We do aim for cross-cultural exchange, which can only be facilitated through communication and the freedom to express oneself.

To empathize with another during a respectful exchange, it’s necessary to understand that everyone has experienced migration in some shape or form.

Each writer is on the threshold between stability and migration, both physically (moving across land) and psychologically. We waver on our toes. Which side to take? If we stay in a single place, holding onto our baseline identity (defined by mindset, generation, lifestyle, and geographic location), we are accused of being stubborn and unchanging. If we stray from what we are familiar with, we risk detaching ourselves from our collective heritage and memory.

One sees the mental suitcase opening and closing, indecisively, in momentous decisions. Leaving a community or a certain mindset can be troubling. This can be as simple as marrying into a new family, or something more challenging, such as moving across borders. To console ourselves for not being able to decide, we rethink our definition of what ‘home’ means, both for the narrative of ‘being at home’ and for the narrative of ‘leaving home.’ Hence we can process our story in our minds historically.

However flawed this memory of “home” may be, we do our best to preserve it by forming communities. We create multiple identifications through collective acts of remembering in the absence of a shared knowledge or a familiar terrain. People do this by switching the grocery story they shop at, to suit their taste buds better, or surrounding themselves with new friends who share similar tastes. If we don’t trust what we have molded, we revise the images again and again.

Sometimes the roles are reversed. The migrant is seen as the resident; the resident becomes a visitor peering into the migrant’s community. Like a human watching a mockingbird’s nest, intercultural dialogue is tricky on the verge of being uncomfortable. Intercultural exchange, even more so.

What might happen if we avoid dialogue altogether? The visitor is scared of asking foolish questions that could toe the boundaries. The bird is suspicious about replying: Too many answers may mean a potential invitation of attack. Hence the conversation becomes less of a willing exchange and more of a stalemate. This is why we encourage all ethnicities to contribute to this magazine.

The matter of time still lingers. Not all art is set in a particular setting, which allows for relatibility and emotional purge. When writing about experience of our ancestors or of our own, we think of the best way to outlast.

So let’s fan our tails and tug our eyelids open. What else is there left to do?