A new poem by Truro poet Chad Norman. Things get rather ugly when some folks don’t approve of his feeding the crows. This is the fourth of nine poems we will pay for and publish during the remainder of the year, selected as a result of the call for poems we issued in May.
New contributor Yazan Khader attended Monday’s Burnside Jail info meeting. Here’s his report. “Despite being pregnant she lost weight in the first few months at Burnside,” a formerly incarcerated mother reported. “She blamed this on the food offered at Burnside, which “wasn’t nutritious” and “not fully cooked. She was often given old leftover food to accommodate her dietary needs, she said.
Delilah Saunders, chair of the Loretta Saunders Community Scholarship Fund, talks with Tammy Mudge, one of this year’s awardees: “Celebrate who you are and what you have to offer and give yourself more credit than you do now! Go time!”
Lawson Roy’s Pinion on Syn-thetic Polymers, a poem by Nova Scotia poet Cory Lavender, is the third of eight poems we will publish during the remainder of the year, selected as a result of the call for poems we issued in May. The poem is in the voice of Lawson Roy, his lobster-fishing grandfather from Port Mouton.
Poet and author Guyleigh Johnson on anxiety, depression, and being Black. ” I thought I was so strong, I could never break, until I reached my breaking point, and then I broke.”
Poet and writer Joanne Bealy on moving to Nova Scotia: “Within the white community I have seen some crazy doubling down: public silence combined with a privileged kind of outspokenness, a white on white outspokenness wherein a caucasian speaker just assumes that any other caucasian agrees with them.”
Alex Kronstein continues his investigation of efforts to “cure” Autism, taking a closer look at practices in Nova Scotia. “They may not be so blatant about “building the person” today, but the idea that autistic ways of being are wrong is nonetheless still the foundation,” writes Alex.
Evelyn C. White reflects on a visit to the Black Loyalist Heritage Centre in Birchtown. “The full sweep of my thoughts on the matter have yet to unfold. But I believe that everything happens for a reason; that in a province burdened with horrific racial strife, the stark shadow of a pit “house” against the recent burst of hipster eateries in Halifax is worthy of examination. There is merit in the enterprise.”
Cash-for-Gold, a stunningly beautiful poem by Tammy Armstrong, is the second of eight poems we will publish during the remainder of the year, selected as a result of the call for poems we issued a while ago.
Alex Kronstein on the worrisome similarities between Gay Conversion Therapies and Applied Behavioural Analysis, aimed to “eliminate problem behaviours in autistic children.”