Editor's Note  

Welcome to the third installment of torches n’ pitchforks online literary journal. When I first started this journal over a year ago, my main goal was simple; to give the opportunity for teens to experiment with their voices and to maybe “find the rattle deep within their throats.” I hoped for them to push further than the mere ‘received knowledge’ we as the ruling generations have fed them.  At the same time, I have come to believe that there can be both liberation and outrage with the awakening of one's voice. We are dealing with volatile materials. I keep hoping that such a message will foster a sense of empowerment with my students, rather than a sense of entitlement (which is, I fear, a growing threat.) I am also growing to believe (not a novel belief, but a reinforced one) that entitlement is what is undermining both creativity and democracy. And yet, empowerment (both in creating and listening) can be the main ingredient for sustaining both; of the people, by the people and for the people, and so forth.

Yes, I am a bit moody. I get like this. My wife says I'm an interesting bunch of guys.  But my mood is affected by more than just the state of teen creativity in an increasingly mechanized educational environment, or in my sad and flickering hopes for our nation, or in my still idealistic hopes for our historic president and for the better angels of our nature. The truth of the matter is that I am sad and grieving a difficult year for our world; both abroad and locally. So many voices close to me have been silenced; beautiful and dignified and ferocious voices.  And I miss them.  From the unjust closing of the very school which helped me to find my own voice, to the actual deaths of former students and friends.  Most recently I’ve lost a student who was shot and killed in what seems like a justifiable intervention by police.  If you would have known him, like many of us did…God, he was beautiful.  There was a time when he believed in creating a positive legacy for his family and friends.  He was so good with my sons.

And at present, I am fearing for my dear friend Daniel Mora, living in Santiago, Chile as his country has sustained one of the greatest earthquakes on record. My friend, my student, my young Neruda.  Some of his poems are showcased in our inaugural issue here.  I am desperate to know of his welfare.

It has been a year of great loss. But, as reflected by this most recent edition of torches n’ pitchforks,  it has also been one of great light.  I would start you off by listening to Ben Hite’s original song “Free” from his Destroy Benjamin Project.   And as you begin reading, you will find that some of the stories and poems reflect a suffering that I can only imagine.  And yet, they are from young people who have survived, and that gives me hope.  Other stories, like this one from Burke DeBoer will hopefully make you laugh as hard as I did.

 I have a sign above my classroom whiteboard which reads “It Matters” and three years later, it still does to me. But there is another phrase, also two words, that has been pulsing in my head, over and over; two words that will harass and disturb me until I let them out to my students, and to you, their readers: “Live On.”

Live on my friends. Live abundantly;  listen and love and fight and love again and live to do it another day. Live on my friends. Live on.

 

Yours Truly,

Jim Churchill-Dicks                                                                                                       editor: torches n' pitchforks