Dear Readers,
Well, I guess the last issue’s letter was wrong in predicting that we would be somewhat “Back to Normal” by now and that covid cases would continue to diminish. Nonetheless, we received great entries into the Creative Nonfiction contest on this theme that dealt with Covid-related issues that have swirled around us the past few months. These essays offer needed insight into this uniquely challenging moment, and guest judge Annie Palmer provided thoughts on the two winning essays.
What gnaws at me the most about this cultural moment is the divisiveness. I find it a mix of infuriating and heartbreaking to witness such division among Americans. To watch, and sometimes be involved in, opposing stances about getting a vaccine or even discussing the validity or severity of a virus is increasingly tiresome. I can't help but feel this politicization of the apolitical is moronic. As a teacher, I sense my occupation becoming even more politicized than it perhaps already was, and it feels like no topic can be broached with friends, family, or strangers on the street without running into an us-versus-them mentality, two versions of the truth, one political party that simply wants to do nothing and return to a bygone era, and another that can’t seem to lead us forward.
I think that in the times we are living, when everything feels loosely falling apart and divided all at once, it is the quotidian and mundane aspects of our daily lives that can feel balancing. For me that means things like grinding coffee beans every morning to make pour-over coffee and afternoon walks around Providence to catch beautiful sunsets over the bay. The pieces published in this issue create spaciousness between the world and us by drawing out the daily details so often overlooked in favor of sensationalist conflict. Whether these details are the planting and nurturing of a tree, bittersweet takes on the roles of mothers and fathers, the desire to go swimming, the freedom of being over a lover, or the luxury of falling safely into one, they remind us of that so often it is the littlest things that make the biggest difference in a person’s life.
The works in this issue come from all over the world, so although Evocations is based in the United States with a primary language of English, it would be incorrect to label this journal an American project. We are united together as human beings on this planet living through this 3rd year of the pandemic. I find some solace in the community, albeit virtual, that has formed through this publication. I hope you all do too, dear readers.
Sincerely Yours, Kim Coates
January 2022