Dear Past Me,
work hard and you’ll get there. its not about an end journey, more enjoying every step along the way! stay true to yourself and your goals, focus on what you’re best at and remember that perseverance and believing in yourself will be your best tools for building your future. you got this!’
Meet the Clitbait Team: an interview with Sophie Nankivell, our Poetry Editor…
Meet the Clitbait Team: an interview with Meg McGrath, our Environmental Editor…
As an artist and body positivity activist I curated a photoshoot shot by Matt Brown, with fellow models and activists in a series of images where each woman chose a word which began with ‘un’ that could be seen as positive when those letters are removed…
You knew you didn’t like leg hair from the first downy patch. It’s all part of growing up so you just learn to live with it. You can just never…
Home Secretary Priti Patel has revealed a whole raft of counter-terrorism measures following the attacks on London Bridge last year, including a new Counter-Terrorism Bill. Now, I could go into intense detail about how often government measures to decrease crime are misguided, but one point in particular caught my eye…
Our Arts and Culture Editor Zoe Robertson gives her recommendations of foreign films…
Beth compiles a list of words which have been added to the dictionary over the past (almost) decade and discusses what this reflects about our society…
On Leaving The House That Was Not My Home
The heat of August squeezed my lungs, it filled them with pollen and diet hope
When I press my arm to my body, the water pools in every crevice, reminding me that I can seal life in between my folds and winding roads
My hip stretches, you’ve taken a wrong turn
Dust, filtering light, uncleanliness, dust, brain rot, mildew, dust, heat, gently blowing fan, bad water pressure, dust, never clean enough, a scream trapped in my old bed, dust
My mattress slanted to the left from the heaviness in my heart
It slants to the right now, morality
Truth, justice
I’m far away, their poison cannot get to me now
My mother’s trauma is thick like tar, motor oil, egg yolk and feathers, the joke was on no one and the laughing was so hollow
I couldn’t save them, I had to make my own way
I will build this, and it will shine and be so beautiful, and finally I can bring her to a real home
Somehow I always knew I’d never been given a fair shake, but it’s never stopped me
Nothing can, always forward
Forward despite everything that ways to tear you screaming back
Forward for yourself, your healed heart shining on the horizon
I squint, it looks just like the sun.
Alex Taggart
Thank You, for Your Service
she stands, defiant and brave,
face towards the unforgiving unknown.
a few places in the world
had just handed women the vote and said, “here, take this, if you must.
we’re sure you won’t know what do with it.” the first wave had momentum,
and we knew the break.
Strachey, Lutz, Caraway…
thank you, for your service.
the clouds were slow to part,
allowing for a clarity of understanding, for that which we had known all along. they bore down.
grey and heavy and not wanting to lift. we were stronger.
we pushed, up and over the mountain. the light pierced through.
Roosevelt, Murray, Pikas…
thank you, for your service.
they say it takes time to turn a boat, but it helps if the tide is on your side. some of us had time,
the lucky ones.
the ones who appealed to the expected,
who could wait for the sluggish vessel.
some were not so lucky.
some had to turn the blood-tinted tide themselves. Jorgensen, Coccinelle, Flexner…
thank you, for your service.
the colours flowed, fast and thick.
they twisted and turned their stoppers, attempting to plug that which flows freely. explosions of pigment,
unable to be scrubbed off, even with
the strongest bleach.
no more being muted, subdued, hidden.
we stood in plain sight, unapologetically vibrant. Friedan, Java, King…
thank you, for your service.
we are not precious flowers.
has that not been made clear?
our power is unlimitable, inimitable. our souls, bodies and minds,
charged with electricity;
given freely by those who came before. “liberation!” pre-packaged and neat,
a whetted palette, an insatiable need. Steinem, Davis, Reddy…
thank you, for your service.
you spoke wisdoms.
truths, deeply universal, yet somehow denied. your controlled voice of reason,
covered up by the hysteria they wanted to hear. they wanted to claim irrationality,
emotional screaming of the unhinged.
there is no shame in feeling,
you reminded them, with undeterred decibels. Butler, Crenshaw, Attwood …
thank you, for your service.
we grew, up and out,
in strength, numbers and size.
our roots ran deep,
our branches reached out,
always outstretched, to take back
and reoccupy our rightful space.
the physical manifestation is undeniable. “we exist”, you declared, “we are here”. Bader Ginsburg, Hill, Ensler…
thank you, for your service.
the century turned, still, you resisted.
freedom lowered itself into the grip of many;
yet, stayed exclusive and unattainable to more. our ancestors had set the stage,
swept away the broken glass,
turned on the lights and pointed them back at you. but you were no longer actors.
you were enough, as you’d always known. Sirleaf, Lees, Walker…
thank you, for your service.
you walked, with conviction.
knowing, deeply, the truths of being.
love is love
and autonomy is empowerment.
single words, “yes” and “no”,
resonate and that which you choose is so.
of course, some tried to extinguish your brightness, nevertheless, you persisted.
Obama, Given, Thunberg…
thank you, for your service.
for all i have said,
for all there is to come,
we cannot possibly scratch the surface. our lives had been taken,
held in the hands of those with power. you take it back,
piece by piece, and hand it to us; gently.
for this, we say,
“thank you, for your service.”
Sophie Nankivell, Poetry Editor
The following essay is the second part of a discussion on Transphobia by Hazel Sanderson…
The last ten years has offered up an eclectic range of new fiction that has challenged and changed how and what we read. Below, I’ve collected a handful of iconic or influential books of the last 10 years that show how new stories are being welcomed onto our shelves…
We’re going to look at some prominent transphobic myths and statements, why these statements are false or misleading and why a minority of people believe them anyway. By doing so we will examine how people get to be transphobic in this way and how to prevent these movements from growing and gaining support…
An employment tribunal decided that “gender critical feminism” was not protected speech in a case this week in which Maya Forstater, tax consultant, claimed that she had been discriminated against by her employer when she lost her job for repeatedly expressing transphobic views online…
Still stuck for those last minute Christmas presents? We’ve got you sorted. Buying from local and independent business not only means your money benefits those within your community, but their environmental impact is often markedly lower as they don’t have to be shipped half way across the world…
Our Visual Artwork Editor, Rosalind Main writes about I Am More Than’s third annual event, ‘Celebration of Diversity’. I Am More Than is an empowering and beautifully feminist project founded by her and Morgan McTiernan, both of whom are fashion models and activists for body inclusivity…
There’s generally a common perception around table-top roleplaying games regarding who they are for. They’re for white, male nerds, right? That’s the kind of people who play Dungeons and Dragons. The reality may surprise you…
Concerned about the climate crisis? Want a government who takes it as seriously as you? Find out who you’re voting for on Thursday pledges to protect our planet in this short summary by our Environmental Editor @megcmcg …
Yeah, so…we’re having a general election. For the third time. In four years. If anyone needs me, I’ll be out in the garden burning my framed copy of the Fixed-Term Parliaments Act 2011 and weeping for what could have been…
Lena Avery recommends music streams which will get you through this study season: “In celebration of study season, let me take you down the Lo-fi radio rabbit hole. Grab some coffee (or tea) of your choice— it’s a long way down…”
On the 25th of November, the world observed the UN’s International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women. This was both a day that called for reflection and the commemoration of the victims and survivors of such violence, but also served as a call to action. The ocean of posts regarding this day that popped up on my social media, as well as the myriad of news articles touching on this topic made me think about survival and politics. Or, more specifically, I asked myself how survivors such as myself can be understood from a political standpoint…
Just over two years ago I was chatting to a man sat reading at the base of the Playfair steps. It was November and freezing cold. I asked him what the best thing he was ever given whilst being a rough sleeper was and he told me ‘a hot water bottle’. I always find it difficult knowing the right etiquette of what to give rough sleepers or anyone who is asking for help on the street…
CW: Harassment, coming-out experiences.
The air is warm and musty, children are screaming from an over-indulgence in sugar, moms turn up with over-the-top baked goods for the PTA, and little Debbie is just about to cause an outbreak of measles. The reason? Debbie’s parents are some of many Americans who have decided that they are anti-vaxxers…
It is important for me as a Body Positivity Activist and Artist to research artists who’s work goes beyond their physical body. For a creative person, the best way to articulate an experience is to have it documented in a way an audience can be influenced from. Be that music, poetry, art or performance. Creating Art on topical themes and personal experiences translates to people in ways that stick in minds and inspires people to do the same…
Slow
There’s lines all over my life
Some stand between myself and others
Building boundaries where I am finally comfortable
Others are queues I stand in watching everyone get goals before me
Grades, graduation, validation, varying
Levels of success that others say are normal
Years of learning to read a certain way
This works for everyone so why cant it work for you?
A high school’s worth of adaptation and confrontation that
This isn’t working for me but I found what does.
The lines in my life move, scrambled like scrabble
3 points for a B but only if it doesn’t look like a D.
Years of minding my Ps and Q’s because apparently they differ
Pardon my politeness for I am slow
Reading aloud always sounds like a eulogy
Mourning the loss of the words I meant to say
Instead the brain substitutes and institutes an easier alternative
For me to manage and say
Or stutter and stammer and try to force out
Only to be told
you got it wrong again
Numbers make sense to me in a different way
I can read it once then say another
Yet warped, reversed and wrong
Calculations feel like abrasions, after a while it got better
Chipping away at the wall between the eyes and the brain
Eventually gluing things together
Excuse my intelligence for I am slow
Diagnosis is a word I can hardly spell
And something I hardly gained
Hours of ‘tell me what is wrong in this line’
when I’m looking at a circle
Expressing myself and grasping for explanations I can’t find
I know the words but I don’t know the words
An adult treated like a child because it took too long to notice
Reconciliation works slowly and silently
Getting to the right people was half the battle
The other half is writing my name on the moving line
Extra time for reading and dreaming of when
My ability matches my capability.
Frustration of how little I can push myself but,
Forgive my fortitude for I am not slow
K Robertson
