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IHRAF Publishes

Leah Block, Editor

Call for Submissions

Submit to ihrafpublishes@gmail.com

IHRAF Publishes is a growing platform for writers to submit poetry, creative nonfiction, short fiction, essays or any other format that comes from the heart, and focuses on social and activist themes. We base our work on the values of beauty, sincerity, vulnerability and engagement, and hope that these will be reflected in the submissions!

If you would like to be included on our platform, please submit writing (500 words or less) to the Editor, Leah Block, at ihrafpublishes@gmail.com. There is currently no pay for publication, but all successful entries will be promoted on our Facebook page (3000+ followers), via our monthly Mailchimp newsletter (2500+ recipients) and will be considered for print publication when we anthologize our best work.

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality and writes hoping to find an audience for her musings. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Apogee, Firewords, Peach Velvet, Light Journal and So It Goes. Find Lynn at:  https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com  and  https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/  

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality and writes hoping to find an audience for her musings. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Apogee, Firewords, Peach Velvet, Light Journal and So It Goes. Find Lynn at: https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/ 

Thoughts on Swallowing a Butterfly

by Lynn White

Butterflies,

such a fragile incarnation

of what went before.

Warriors, according to the Mayans, 

dead warriors ready

to be transformed,

transformed into butterflies.

Butterflies, 

surely too fragile 

to make warriors,

too easily destroyed

in their new metamorphosis.

But  they can wait,

they can wait

for their next transformation

So take care if you swallow a butterfly.

Butterflies,

vigorous egg layers

that can reproduce themselves,

warriors,

mutating again to find

new ways to fight back,

to invade the invaders,

enslave the enslavers,

exploit 

the new possibilities.

So take care if you swallow a butterfly.

And I can wait.

I have been waiting a long time

to see Henry Kissinger choke

on a butterfly.

I can wait.

Perhaps there’s still hope 

that the butterflies

will worm their way inside

and destroy them all.

I can wait.

So take care if you swallow a butterfly.

Lisa López Smith lives and writes from her home in central Mexico. When not wrangling kids or rescue dogs or goats, you can probably find her riding her bike. Recent and forthcoming publications include: TJ Eckleburg Review, Sky Island Journal, Tilde, Mothers Always Write, Lacuna Magazine, and Coal Hill Review.

Lisa López Smith lives and writes from her home in central Mexico. When not wrangling kids or rescue dogs or goats, you can probably find her riding her bike. Recent and forthcoming publications include: TJ Eckleburg Review, Sky Island Journal, Tilde, Mothers Always Write, Lacuna Magazine, and Coal Hill Review.



In the Templo Compañía de Jesús in Oaxaca City

by Lisa López Smith

no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck

feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled

means something more than journey.

From “Home” by Warsan Shire

Don’t do it,

I want to say with all the colonial

wisdom of my smooth border crossing

passported, educated practicality. After all,

I once walked in the dust and sun

of the Sonoran desert, berated

the walls, knelt at the crosses

of unknown remains &

learned just what the sun could do

to a body—rendered

unrecognizable in just one day. Before,

I dispensed rice & and beans &

slices of soap in the shelters,

there never were enough

size 28 waisted pants for all

the skinny boys there. I translated

for an asylum case for a man escaping the cartels

& the reports of all they could do to a body.

He stands there. I’m taking photos in a

church I’ve never seen before.

His baby daughter in her pink dress,

sparkly sandals, and serious smile.

“American Dream,” he says cheerfully in English,

in this place weeks of walking away from

the border. He stands

with his daughter—looking a lot like

all the other separated kids in detention,

their parents deported. Empty arms and

broken.

He picks her up, her curls bobbling.

“American Dream!”

But what is the cost

of crumbling dreams

between your fingers like

broken flowers. I want to say,

Don’t do it. Yet,

I too pedaled my fortunes across

countries because I too left my homeland

to seek the life I wanted. And, I too

would put my children in a leaky raft

if home were a shark.



Maeghan Mary Suzik is a New York City based actor, poet, and arts activist in her junior year at NYU Tisch School of the Arts. Her poetry was just displayed at the 2019 NYU Diversity Arts Festival and some recent publications include the ninth edition of Catfish Creek, volume four of The Rational Creature Magazine, and the 2018 spring issue of October Hill Magazine.

Maeghan Mary Suzik is a New York City based actor, poet, and arts activist in her junior year at NYU Tisch School of the Arts. Her poetry was just displayed at the 2019 NYU Diversity Arts Festival and some recent publications include the ninth edition of Catfish Creek, volume four of The Rational Creature Magazine, and the 2018 spring issue of October Hill Magazine.

The Unclean Prayer

by Maeghan Mary Suzik

This is not a poem for me.

Yes, it is my song,

but it is for all who heed a different voice.

For those who shake in their seats and have spinning clocks for brains! 

For my sister who I wish to see that the world is more beautiful than the bottom of the orange bottle.

And my best friend who sinks into the mirror though she only exists as the light that reflects off of it.

Consumed by an infinity to which there is no up or down, but only outward! 

For tolerance and ignorance are vertical while acceptance and love are horizontal.


I scream for the delicious ice cream called education!

Because in the pit where my OCD left me cold,

I found a pen. 

Ink ignites legislature and unifies lovers.

I ask you to listen to the words of all whose mind floats above their bodies 

and urge you to dot the I’s 

and see through the burning castles.

Because I’ve got plans.

Sear-suckered Tony award in hand plans. 

Get my Mama a beach house plans. 

We’ve got dreams growing out of each pore like mystical flowers from a country built on inspiration not fried food. 

There is a to-do list bigger than the wage gap.


So I say to those who cannot see

and live in sticker boneyards from doctors visits: 

You are not alone.

When the bed swallows the sunrise and sunset

Know that in the ground rattles a breath of fresh air and a new encyclopedia of self love and self help and open heart resources will rise from the cinders. 

Because we’ve all got plans.



Eliezer Sobel   While serving in his capacity as an amateur human being over the years, Eliezer Sobel, 66, divided his time between the creative life —  writing ,  painting , playing  music ,  performing ,  teaching  — and the life of the spiritual aspirant — suffering, seeking, striving, sitting and silence. The sordid details of that journey are chronicled in his book,   The 99th Monkey: A Spirtual Journalist's Misadventures with Gurus, Messahs, Sex, Psychedelics and Other Consciousness-Raising Experiments.    Eliezer blogs for   Psychology Today   and has published  articles ,  short stories  and poetry in Tikkun, Yoga Journal, Quest Magazine, Inner Directions, Magical Blend, New Age Journal, Mudfish, the Village Voice, Epoch, Zeek, The Hook, The Journal of Pastoral Care, The Minetta Review, the Widow,  and others. He also served as the Associate Publisher and Editor of  The New Sun magazine in the late 70s.

Eliezer Sobel

While serving in his capacity as an amateur human being over the years, Eliezer Sobel, 66, divided his time between the creative life — writing, painting, playing music, performing, teaching — and the life of the spiritual aspirant — suffering, seeking, striving, sitting and silence. The sordid details of that journey are chronicled in his book, The 99th Monkey: A Spirtual Journalist's Misadventures with Gurus, Messahs, Sex, Psychedelics and Other Consciousness-Raising Experiments.

Eliezer blogs for Psychology Today and has published articles, short stories and poetry inTikkun, Yoga Journal, Quest Magazine, Inner Directions, Magical Blend, New Age Journal, Mudfish, the Village Voice, Epoch, Zeek, The Hook, The Journal of Pastoral Care, The Minetta Review, the Widow, and others. He also served as the Associate Publisher and Editor of The New Sunmagazine in the late 70s.

Consolation for Mortals

by Eliezer Sobel

This body flies through life 

and settles in a pile of mud,

next to other piles of mud.

Or it is like a pot

fired in a kiln

then smashed against rocks,

the dust of tiny airborne particles.

The Parsis let vultures peck meat off

the bones of the dead, on rooftops,

until only pieces of bone remain.

These are all common occurrences,

but listen carefully, fearful mortal:

That form you call you that disappears

was never you.

No, you are the writer

of this poem.

(Elizer’s piece was written in the Shalom/Salaam conference, April 14, 2019, in conjunction with the Muslim-Jewish Solidarity Committee, during the poetry workshop run by Muslim Writers Collective Boardmember Monna Sabouri.)

POETRY IS MY OFFICIAL LANGUAGE OF MASS INSTRUCTION

by Mbizo Chirasha

IHRAF International Fellow 2019

Poetry is not a silent language. 

It is the official language of literary activism. 

Poets cannot be easily gagged especially with advent of digital literacy and internet revolution.  

Poetry is a powerful medium of creative activism and human rights advocacy.  We are all shaped, serenaded and entertained into maturation by sweet lullabies, drum beat sounds and birdsongs: True cousins of Poetry.  Song and dance are verse in motion thus poetry remains a vehicle of freedom of expression and creative consciousness.  It cannot be relegated to the peripheral pleats of human intellectuality but must respected in every quest for freedom and struggle for human liberation. 

Poetry weans us to realities and complexities of society as we are swayed everyday by rough political winds.  It injects  the penicillin of sanity into  the corrupted  blood of rat-brained devils and steel-hearted dictators.  At least  they might  repent after  sipping a bitter sweet verse or more.  

The  blunt-edged swords of my metaphor  and razor sharp flesh slicing  irony   burrow stinging truth  through banking malls scarred by poverty graffiti.  It roasts and boils sandy paper souls of political demigods.  It blisters the long fingers of gluttonous bureaucrats as it scalds them with hot holy waters of satire and imagery. 

It is the language that fertilizes the baobab seeds of revolutions in our long journey to freedom.  Poetry remains the literary sword of resistance through and through. Transcending from violence smitten favelas of Latina Americas to corruption creased streets of Black Africa.  Napoleonic political set ups  have been  using art as a propaganda crank to effect segregation, intimidation and totalitarianism. The  modern underground protest poet is now conscious of true and false revolutions.  He or she refuses to be manipulated and then discarded into creative cemeteries  like condom sheaths.

While today’s world is haunted by turbulent times of warlordism, regionalism, super-power autocracy, political banditry, Islamophobia and xenophobia.  The poet and his poetry are the masons of resistance and drills of mass consciousness. 

Resilient voices have saved vulnerable nations from sinking.  

For example, a few decades ago, Zimbabwe’s harsh political twists, moral decadence and economic malaise helped in the birthing of underground poets and protest voices.  Their crude literary art and satire of vitriol signaled abject poverty and dynastistic tendencies of the ruling regime.  House of Hunger Poetry Slam (founded in 2006) was a direct response to the moral crisis caused by dictatorial Mugabe regime. 

The fervent regime of protest poets overthrew the degree’d old-guard literists.  The old guard poets had lost the salt of expression due to fear and intimidation by the state.  Most of them ended up as commissars of the failing but steel gloved Mugabe regime.  Many had no choice but to succumb to profound silence for the purposes of their lives, careers and freedom. 

The brave lot of new generation protest poets are adamant and vocal  about the police state: Zimbabwe.  They took their aim at post-liberation oppression,  human rights abuses, police brutality and political violence as perpetuated by modern African leadership.  Yesteryear poet’s language was against colonialism, slavery, racial segregation and apartheid.  During those brutal years, voices were vehemently thwarted.

Likewise, today African regimes gag, imprison, and plunder the freedoms and lives of resilient underground voices.  Such experiences led me to create and curate the  Zimbabwe We Want Poetry Campaign.  It has since generated a Global Poetry of Resistance Movement speaking out against moral decadence, dictatorships, bad governance, abuse of human rights, gagging of freedom of expression through literary activism and resistance poetry. 

I have led in the publication of poetry e-books, curatorship of a weekly poetry of resilience platforms the Brave Voices Poetry Campaign (miombopublishing.wordpress.com) and other platforms.  I have turned Facebook into a Republic of Art for Peace, Literary Activism and Protest Poetry through the active curatorship of  pages, groups and timelines on Social Media. 

The yesteryear literary guerrillas like Carlos Bvuma, Marechera, Mapanje, Chipasula, Soyinka, Neto, Anglou, Brutus and Hughes played their mammoth duties, fighting for freedoms of their generations and the future.  Literary  revolutionaries of their time. 

We can’t afford to have our nations sinking into dungeons of banditry cabals  and corruption  cartels.  We are indebted to use this official language of resistance, poetry.  Even under all these depressing challenges of imprisonment, exile and intimidation, poets remain the people commissars and their poetry are weapons of mass instruction. 

Aluta Continua!!!

MBIZO CHIRASHA  is the 2019 IHRAF International Fellow (literary activism). He is also the Vice Presidente de PPDM –Africa, El Movimiento Poetas del Mundo (poetasdelmundocom), Recipient of Global Literary Influencer Certificate of Merit by Directorio Mundial de Escritores through Academia Mundial de Literatura, Historia, Arte y Cultura (2018.)  He is widely published in more than thirty-five journals, magazines, and anthologies around the world. He was the poet-in-residence: from 2001-2004 for the Iranian embassy/UN dialogue among civilizations project; the United Nations Information Center – 2001-2008; Convener/Event Consultant THIS IS AFRICA POETRY NIGHT 2004 – 2006; official performance poet Zimbabwe International Travel Expo in 2007; the international conference of African culture and development/ ICACD 2009; and official Poet Sadc Poetry Festival, NAMIBIA 2009. A delegate to the Unesco photo novel writing project in Tanzania, Mbizo is the Official poet in residence for the ISOLA/ international conference of oral literature 2010 in Kenya.  http://badilishapoetry.com/mbizo-chirasha/

MBIZO CHIRASHA is the 2019 IHRAF International Fellow (literary activism). He is also the Vice Presidente de PPDM –Africa, El Movimiento Poetas del Mundo (poetasdelmundocom), Recipient of Global Literary Influencer Certificate of Merit by Directorio Mundial de Escritores through Academia Mundial de Literatura, Historia, Arte y Cultura (2018.)

He is widely published in more than thirty-five journals, magazines, and anthologies around the world. He was the poet-in-residence: from 2001-2004 for the Iranian embassy/UN dialogue among civilizations project; the United Nations Information Center – 2001-2008; Convener/Event Consultant THIS IS AFRICA POETRY NIGHT 2004 – 2006; official performance poet Zimbabwe International Travel Expo in 2007; the international conference of African culture and development/ ICACD 2009; and official Poet Sadc Poetry Festival, NAMIBIA 2009. A delegate to the Unesco photo novel writing project in Tanzania, Mbizo is the Official poet in residence for the ISOLA/ international conference of oral literature 2010 in Kenya.

http://badilishapoetry.com/mbizo-chirasha/

ANTHEM OF THE BLACK POET

Mbizo Chirasha  is an acclaimed wordsmith, performances poet, widely published poet and writer. He is the Founder and Creative Director of several creative initiatives and projects, including  Young writers Caravan Project ,  This is Africa Poetry Night 2006 – 2008 ,  Zimbabwe Amateur Poetry conference 2007 – 2010 ,  African Drums Poetry Festival 2007 ,  GirlChildCreativity Project 2011- Current, GirlchildTalent Festival 2012.   Mbizo has been published in more than 60 journals, anthologies, websites, reviews, newspapers, blogs and poetry collections around the world. Some of the countries he traveled include Ghana, Sweden, Egypt, Tanzania, South Africa, Mozambique, Namibia, Zambia and Malawi.  In 2001- 2003 Mbizo was the Membership Drive officer for Budding writers Association of Zimbabwe. In 2000 was Outreach Agent for Zimbabwe Book Development Council, Delegate of Zimbabwe international Book fair to Goteborg international book fair /Sweden in 2003, Delegate of Zebra publishing House, Namibia to Unesco Photo Novel Writing Project in Tanzania 2009, Poet in Residence of International Conference of African Culture Development in Ghana 2009,Producer/Coordinator of I am the Artist project, an Artist in Residence program by Zimbabwe Germany Society /Goethe Zentrum.

Mbizo Chirasha is an acclaimed wordsmith, performances poet, widely published poet and writer. He is the Founder and Creative Director of several creative initiatives and projects, including Young writers Caravan Project, This is Africa Poetry Night 2006 – 2008, Zimbabwe Amateur Poetry conference 2007 – 2010, African Drums Poetry Festival 2007, GirlChildCreativity Project 2011- Current, GirlchildTalent Festival 2012.

Mbizo has been published in more than 60 journals, anthologies, websites, reviews, newspapers, blogs and poetry collections around the world. Some of the countries he traveled include Ghana, Sweden, Egypt, Tanzania, South Africa, Mozambique, Namibia, Zambia and Malawi.

In 2001- 2003 Mbizo was the Membership Drive officer for Budding writers Association of Zimbabwe. In 2000 was Outreach Agent for Zimbabwe Book Development Council, Delegate of Zimbabwe international Book fair to Goteborg international book fair /Sweden in 2003, Delegate of Zebra publishing House, Namibia to Unesco Photo Novel Writing Project in Tanzania 2009, Poet in Residence of International Conference of African Culture Development in Ghana 2009,Producer/Coordinator of I am the Artist project, an Artist in Residence program by Zimbabwe Germany Society /Goethe Zentrum.

by Mbizo Chirasha

IHRAF International Fellow 2019

the succulent breast of mother africa oozes with the milk of black renaissance
the rich womb of africa germinates seeds of black consciousness
the black blood bubbles with identity of africanness
the sweat of my brows flows with the revolutions from slavery to independence

i am the black poet
i am the black poet
black valleys bloom with flowers of nehandaness
african horizons shine with the rays of nkurumahness
black streets coloured with rainbows of mandelaness
black soil creamed with the wisdom of mugabeness
black spears sharpened with the conscience of bikoness

i am the black poet
i sing of black culture bleaching in oceans of coca cola
i sing of black culture fried in cauldrons of floridization
i sing of black culture gambled in the dark streets of sunset hills
i sing of black culture burning in computer ages

i am the black poet
i sing of kings and their people
i sing of black kings and their people
i sing of the dead souls of black history
i sing of the rising spirits of black renaissance
i sing of the rising souls of black consciousness
i sing for the rising spirits of pan-africanness

BED-IN

by Rabbi Abie ingber

(Delivered at the International Human Rights Art Festival’s “Celebration of Justice,” November 16, 2018)

It is just three weeks since the horrific killing of Jews in a synagogue in Pittsburgh, and the hate motivated murder of two African Americans in a grocery store in Kentucky. Yet this evening we allow ourselves to come together and celebrate. But this is unlike any other celebration – this is a celebration of justice, a celebration of the dignity of all humankind, a celebration of life’s greatest potential, a celebration of creativity. Let me ask you to just be still for a moment and dedicate our celebration to the lives that were taken just a few weeks ago.  

SILENCE: May the memories of the righteous be for blessing. May we be even more resolutely inspired to pursue justice. 

It is also almost exactly fifty years since I walked into room number 1742 of the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Montreal, Canada. My visit there was not about celebration – it was a test. I wanted to know if poetic expression and music was genuine as a way to change the world, to heal the world. I walked into that bedroom to learn firsthand if the love and peace-filled anthems of the 1960s were genuine or if it was just a cover to produce hit records. The date was June 1, 1969, and the occupants of the hotel bedroom were John Lennon and Yoko Ono. I wanted to know if John just sang about peace and love and imagination or if he was genuine and singularly committed to the work ahead of him. John Lennon and Yoko Ono were staging a Love-in for peace and I walked into that bedroom as they recorded All We Are Saying is Give Peace a Chance. Yes, that bedroom, that Love-in and that song with Tommy Smothers and Timothy Leary and John and Yoko. I came away with that beat in my heart and with full knowledge that Giving Peace a Chance was John Lennon’s marching order, and now it was mine. 

I define my leadership and my life’s passion by my devotion to the value of healing the world – the world which was the legacy given me by my parents, both survivors of the Holocaust of World War II. I stand before you not to tell you about the Holocaust of my parents’ lives but of the import of their experience in my life, and the embrace they taught me of the words of the prophet Amos who spoke of - “Justice rolling down like waters, righteousness like an ever-flowing stream”.

My friends, I came from a world where love triumphed over hatred, where dreams defined more than nightmares, and where goodness overcame evil. If I had two hearts, I could love with one and hate with the other, but God only gave me one heart and I choose to use it for love.  In building trust around the world, I have been able to build bridges of understanding. 

I must be honest though. I have neither healed the world nor significantly changed it. But in trying to do so, I have healed and changed myself. In every corner of this world, from the refugee camps of Darfur to the mountains of Ethiopia; from the killing fields of Eastern Europe to the safe houses for sexually abused young people in Kenya and Uganda, I have captured stories and shared them, shared hugs and shone a spotlight on suffering. Story-telling was my art-form - the stories of others who in desperation had trusted me. 

But I also inherited a love for fine art from my father - a love of art in all of its forms. Well into his late 70s my father sang and performed at senior citizens’ homes and in 1997 he had a small part dancing with Olympia Dukakis in a comedy-drama movie, Never Too Late. My father taught me by example to appreciate quality art, and, if need be, to acquire it with small monthly payments. Life was too short to waste it on garbage. 

It was both my parents together who taught me of the most genuine gifts that we can share with the world. 

We give of ourselves when we give gifts of the mind: ideas, dreams, purposes, ideals, principles, and poetry.  We give of ourselves when we give gifts of the spirit:  prayer, vision, beauty, aspiration, hope, peace and faith.  We give of ourselves when we give gifts of time:  when we are minute builders of more appreciated living for others.  We give of ourselves when we give the gift of words:  encouragement, inspiration, guidance.  These are our most precious gifts, and each person here tonight has a treasure chest from which to offer them.

(Adapted from Wilferd Peterson, Art of Giving, 1961)

Give peace a chance, give beauty, music, dance and art a chance, give yourselves the greatest gift. 

Rabbi Abie Ingber founded the Office of Interfaith Community Engagement at Xavier University in 2008. and serves as adjunct professor of theology. For over 30 years, he was executive director at Hillel Jewish Student Center.  Himself an immigrant, Rabbi Abie has advocated his entire life on behalf of immigrants. As a teenager, he talked his way into John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s bedroom during their 1969 Bed-In and they signed his petition for Russian Jewish emigration. In 2009, he traveled to Darfur with HIAS to experience refugees situation and to share the message of hope with which his Holocaust survivor parents raised him. In 2010, HIAS work took him to Uganda and Kenya. In 2012 he was an eyewitness in Ethiopia to the repatriation of Ethiopian Jews to Israel.  Rabbi Abie co-created the 2005 award-winning exhibit, A Blessing to One Another: Pope John Paul II and the Jewish People, which has toured over eighteen American cities. When a pastor in Florida threatened to burn the Koran, he encouraged students of all faiths to read the Koran aloud in the center of campus, showing how similar Islam is to its Abrahamic brethren.  Ingber is known across the country and around the world for his unifying efforts and strong speeches and received the Eternal Light Award from the Center for Jewish-Catholic Studies in Tampa. The University of Cincinnati has bestowed on him the Dr. Martin Luther King Award and the Just Community Award.

Rabbi Abie Ingber founded the Office of Interfaith Community Engagement at Xavier University in 2008. and serves as adjunct professor of theology. For over 30 years, he was executive director at Hillel Jewish Student Center.

Himself an immigrant, Rabbi Abie has advocated his entire life on behalf of immigrants. As a teenager, he talked his way into John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s bedroom during their 1969 Bed-In and they signed his petition for Russian Jewish emigration. In 2009, he traveled to Darfur with HIAS to experience refugees situation and to share the message of hope with which his Holocaust survivor parents raised him. In 2010, HIAS work took him to Uganda and Kenya. In 2012 he was an eyewitness in Ethiopia to the repatriation of Ethiopian Jews to Israel.

Rabbi Abie co-created the 2005 award-winning exhibit, A Blessing to One Another: Pope John Paul II and the Jewish People, which has toured over eighteen American cities. When a pastor in Florida threatened to burn the Koran, he encouraged students of all faiths to read the Koran aloud in the center of campus, showing how similar Islam is to its Abrahamic brethren.

Ingber is known across the country and around the world for his unifying efforts and strong speeches and received the Eternal Light Award from the Center for Jewish-Catholic Studies in Tampa. The University of Cincinnati has bestowed on him the Dr. Martin Luther King Award and the Just Community Award.

Dr. Sarah Sayeed works as Senior Advisor in the Community Affairs Unit of the Mayor's Office of New York City, where she is responsible for citywide Muslim engagement and facilitating culturally responsive agency outreach. She previously worked for seven years at the Interfaith Center of New York, most recently as the Director of Community Partnerships. Sarah has been involved for nearly two decades with Women in Islam, Inc., a social justice and human rights organization dedicated to the empowerment of women through knowledge and practice of Islam. Sarah holds a B.A. in Sociology and Near East Studies from Princeton University and an M.A. and Ph.D. in Communication from the Annenberg School for Communication, University of Pennsylvania. She also holds a certificate in Reconciliation Leadership through the Institute for Global Leadership and recently participated in the American Muslim Civic Leadership Institute (AMCLI) Fellows program.

Dr. Sarah Sayeed works as Senior Advisor in the Community Affairs Unit of the Mayor's Office of New York City, where she is responsible for citywide Muslim engagement and facilitating culturally responsive agency outreach. She previously worked for seven years at the Interfaith Center of New York, most recently as the Director of Community Partnerships. Sarah has been involved for nearly two decades with Women in Islam, Inc., a social justice and human rights organization dedicated to the empowerment of women through knowledge and practice of Islam. Sarah holds a B.A. in Sociology and Near East Studies from Princeton University and an M.A. and Ph.D. in Communication from the Annenberg School for Communication, University of Pennsylvania. She also holds a certificate in Reconciliation Leadership through the Institute for Global Leadership and recently participated in the American Muslim Civic Leadership Institute (AMCLI) Fellows program.

Calibrated for Goodness

by Dr Sarah Sayeed

(Delivered at the International Human Rights Art Festival’s “Celebration of Justice,” November 16, 2018)

People come in and out of the doorway of our lives for reasons not always discernible to us. But they are always there as part of some wise, loving plan for our growth, even and perhaps especially when they bring us challenges or pain. 

 There is a verse in the Quran that says truly in hardship there is ease. Another verse also says the God is closer to us than our jugular vein. And that God is with us wherever we are.  

Since God is in every experience with us, we are not alone. I am not alone.  Life encounters serve a purpose of (re)calibrating our inner compass.  When we feel burdened, a smile from a loved one, even a pretend smile on our own face can lighten the load.  When we are tipped towards grandiosity, false hopes or naiveté, disillusionment may walk in to help us back on course with a Reality beyond our line of sight. When we see darkness in one corner, light can shine from behind another.  Anger has a place to remind us to guard our own boundaries and limits.  A sense of purpose can seem to elude us, but that is just meant to be generative, to create a longing for authentic grounding.  Loneliness hits and prompts us to seek out connection.  We never dwell too long in any one state because we are constantly being renewed. Even depression lifts.  With mindful attention, love, and compassion towards our own tender hearts, we can grow in awareness of how to manage the ebb and flow of our states.  This will also help us live with love and kindness towards others.

I have faith that each person is put here for a deeper purpose meant to harness our talents and gifts in the service of some greater Goodness. We may be washed out and wrung dry in the process but that's how we become reusable.  It’s up to me to keep my lenses clear, to have a steady gaze that sees myself and others in this light.  When I falter and forget, I can count on God’s wisdom to bring people and experiences into my life to guide me back to center.

A quote noted in my high school journal from the Velveteen Rabbit comes to mind:  "Real isn't how you are made" said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become real."

This is a story about a stuffed animal that perhaps feels a little instrumentalized, like I also have felt on occasion- by people in my circles.  But there is a deeper love that has emerged in my personal relationships over time, a love that makes me grateful to be part of humanity, in spite of all our failings.  It moves me toward gratitude and forgiveness. 

I am now understanding that everything that happens is God’s way of making me and us each of us Real, renewing us daily as a channel for Goodness, loving us into who we truly are.

Dubbs’s Experience

Dubbs Weinblatt (they/them) identifies as trans, genderqueer, queer and gay. Each word means something different to them and is an important part of their identity.  Ask them why!  Currently Dubbs is the Education and Training Manager, National,for  Keshet , a non-profit that works for the full inclusion and equality of LGBTQ people in Jewish life. Dubbs travels the country using their strong facilitation skills to inspire and help create institutional change.  Outside of their day job, Dubbs founded and produces  Thank You For Coming Out ( an improv show comprised of LGBTQ performers that brings to life coming out stories with improv) and other projects that help lift the voices of LGBTQ people and build community. They also co-founded  Craft Your Truth.  Dubbs teaches workshops on LGBTQ inclusion and on how to connect, trust, listen and communicate effectively through the techniques of improv.  Dubbs' personal experience informs much of the work they do today and makes them a passionate educator, advocate and community leader.

Dubbs Weinblatt (they/them) identifies as trans, genderqueer, queer and gay. Each word means something different to them and is an important part of their identity. Ask them why! Currently Dubbs is the Education and Training Manager, National,for Keshet, a non-profit that works for the full inclusion and equality of LGBTQ people in Jewish life. Dubbs travels the country using their strong facilitation skills to inspire and help create institutional change.

Outside of their day job, Dubbs founded and produces Thank You For Coming Out (an improv show comprised of LGBTQ performers that brings to life coming out stories with improv) and other projects that help lift the voices of LGBTQ people and build community. They also co-founded Craft Your Truth. Dubbs teaches workshops on LGBTQ inclusion and on how to connect, trust, listen and communicate effectively through the techniques of improv.

Dubbs' personal experience informs much of the work they do today and makes them a passionate educator, advocate and community leader.

by Dubbs Weinblatt

Dysphoria

is an unpredictable little bugger. It comes and goes and I never know when to expect it. It's uncomfortable, it's painful and quite honestly, it sucks. I don't feel it about my chest anymore but I do around my hips, my butt, my voice, etc. I never know when something is going to trigger it. One thing I've come to expect quite regularly is dysphoria around my period. To make light of this part about me and to make it feel a bit easier, I've nicknamed my period 'Pierpont'. It's fun to say with a British accent and that makes it one degree easier to deal with. "Oh, I believe Pierpont has arrived. And he's early, how RUDE!" The fun stops there.

An Ode to Pierpont

Once a month I'm reminded of the person I never was

Contracting uterus

There is no us

There's only you

Flowing like the tears from my eyes

Cramping my style

Shedding my dignity

Discharging my emotions

Blemishing my ideal

Swinging my mood

Aching my very core

Causing my anxiety to skyrocket

Going to the store

'These aren't for me' I think and want to say but

My lips stay stuck

I stay silent

It's a lie

A Super inconvenience

For my Regular life

Something that's hard to make Lite of

Some months are harder than others

Sometimes my body takes pity on me

Otherwise it's a heavy burden

Nothing feels sanitary

Nothing feels right

Who knew something so regular

Could feel so irregular

Changing

I am always so uncomfortable changing in the women's locker room but also don't feel comfortable going into the men's room either. I hate that this happened in NYC. I hate that this happened to Branson. I hate that it could happen to me. I hate that it could happen to anyone. If you've ever wondered why sometimes I'm uncomfortable with my shirt off in public places, here's a big reason.

They

Tonight while out with my cousin the server kept saying ‘ladies’ this and ‘ladies’ that and it was really bugging me. When I was in the bathroom my cousin asked the server to please stop using that word because I don’t identify that way and it made me uncomfortable. Then the rest of the night the server said ‘folks’ instead and I felt seen and felt so much better.

Just got called ‘sir’ three different times and I’m just not that mad about it.

But more than anything else, back when I still stumbled over each “they,” I realized that the tiny jolt I felt each time my mind readjusted was a miniature echo and essential reminder of the hundreds of instances of disrespect, discrimination, harassment, hatred and violence that transgender people experience every day. The minutes I wasted repeating my fragment of Gender and Language 101 were nothing compared with the burden placed on trans people to educate their families, friends, teachers, employers, landlords, policymakers and the rest of the world about their very personhood.”


Top Surgery

Two years ago today I celebrated #pride by having #topsurgery. This surgery was/is life-changing. I’ve been the most happy, confident, authentic, connected person because I actually feel comfortable in who I am. I see MYSELF when I look in the mirror. Whoa! Everyone deserves that. I’m still learning about myself and growing and making mistakes and life is still hard but at least I can come at it from a baseline of happiness and contentness I’d never experienced in the first 31 years of my life.

I still get nervous to be in public without a shirt because people stare and my chest doesn’t look exactly the way I want it to yet (sometimes it looks like I still have boobies!) but when I DO go in public or post on here, I’m consistently buoyed by my friends, family and community and it makes me feel safe and like a million bucks. I am so lucky.

So, thank you (for coming out😉) and having my back and cheering me on. Love you all and Happy Pride 

Order of Operations

Stare at my face/hair

Stare at my chest

Stare at my crotch 

Give me a disgusted look

Lather, rinse, repeat. All day. Everyday.


Icky

I just got done showing my apartment to this person who made me feel very icky. I disclosed that I had top surgery and will walk around without a shirt on occasionally because I like to be open and also need to make sure that I will feel safe in my own home. I also talked about my day job which is teaching LGBTQ inclusion to Jewish professionals.

I was then bombarded with 10K questions about terms and identity and was told I was “bold for attempting to try to change something that would never change. You’re the minority....you can’t create change. Why would people listen? You can’t expect change.”

She challenged every piece of my identity, every part of my being and she did it in my own home. I wish I would have stopped it sooner but there was this small part of me that was curious to see what else she’d have the nerve say. She asked me about children and how they’re taught when they’re younger not to let strangers touch them and will that just go out the window? Obviously I answered that NO. Queer people ALSO talk about consent and what’s appropriate etc etc and nothing about ‘what’s appropriate’ changes just bc you’re queer. SERIOUSLY!? We’re HUMAN too! She said a lot of other things that were masked as ‘curiosity’ but really weren’t; I am pretty aware of the difference by now. She was trying to prove me wrong. She was trying to prove my experience and my identity wrong. And it felt really bad.

I’m telling you this because I want you to understand that I deal with this shit on the daily and sometimes it’s exhausting just to exist. And I’m telling you this bc I need welcoming and inclusive roommates and please send those people my way.

Thanks.

Katherine Dye is a graduate of Oberlin College with a B.A. in Comparative Literature. She writes fiction and poetry and hopes to pursue an MFA in Writing. She has a particular interest in feminist literature and literature that plays with the conventions of form and genre. Her work has been published in The Plum Creek Review.

Katherine Dye is a graduate of Oberlin College with a B.A. in Comparative Literature. She writes fiction and poetry and hopes to pursue an MFA in Writing. She has a particular interest in feminist literature and literature that plays with the conventions of form and genre. Her work has been published in The Plum Creek Review.

Object Impermanence 

by Katherine Dye

A woman must continually watch herself.

John Berger

Is it “I” or eye? Choose one:

“I”/eye see the men in the street. They see me.

(If they look away,) 

“I”/eye will disappear. 

“I”/eye will never have existed. 

“I”/eye am a figment to others and myself. 

(My body is hollow flesh.)

“I”/eye exist forever

(in that moment between bloom and over ripeness.)

“I”/eye inhabit a brittle world

(before the spoken word. 

My body becomes real.)

“I”/eye become object.

“I”/eye become me. 

You speak and “I”/eye am you.

(Your eyes turn me into meat,)

while “I”/eye am my own butcher. 

Broken Bread Sestina

by Michaela Zelie


My mother teaches me how to knead
the dough. With the heel
of her hands, her body lifting,
she teaches me that the body      
“Is like pieces
Of a puzzle, two people, just fit.”
She teaches me how to fit
the dough into the space above the fridge. “It needs
to rise,” as she tucks a piece
of hair behind my ear. I push off my heels,
press my body
into hers. I ask to lift
the towel. She says “lifting
it too soon won’t allow it rise.” Its like trying to fit
the pieces
of myself into others without realizing I need-
to let myself heal
in between. My body
isn’t meant to fit with everybody.
It’s been ½ a decade now, of lifting
my body from mattresses, searching for heal-
ing, searching for something that fits.
½ a decade of need-
ing to find the right pieces.
2 years since someone forced pieces
of himself into my body
and since then I have need-
ed the control that comes with lifting
myself away from people who don’t fit.
I haven’t learned how to heal.
I have begun to think of heal-
ing as an unattainable peace.
I have begun to question if anything will ever fit
into this body
the way my mother said it should, in a way that lifts
me up rather than leaves me needing.
She couldn’t teach me how to heal, or where my body fit
as easily as she could teach me how to knead or how to lift
the dough, break it into pieces, slide them into pans.

Michaela Zelie  is a recent graduate from the University of Maine at Farmington. She is particularly interested in poetry and poetic nonfiction, particularly in exploration of religion and the body. Michaela has been published in The Sandy River Review and The River.

Michaela Zelie is a recent graduate from the University of Maine at Farmington. She is particularly interested in poetry and poetic nonfiction, particularly in exploration of religion and the body. Michaela has been published in The Sandy River Review and The River.