A poem by Zach Klebaner.
A poem by Zach Klebaner.
A poem by Qin Sun Stubis.
A poem by Kayla Brown.
Paper Dragon is the literary journal of Drexel University’s MFA in Creative Writing program. It is managed and edited by MFA students and published with generous help from the Drexel Publishing Group.
Through civic engagement, our mission is to provide a platform for the amplification of and discourse amongst communities that have historically been underrepresented in literature. Paper Dragon will achieve this goal by showcasing high-quality creative work from authors and other artists in these communities and coordinating virtual discourse through the material’s shared theme and focus.
Publisher
Drexel Publishing Group
Editor-in-Chief
Beth Ann Downey
Managing Editors
Daniel Horn, Bill Vargo
Fiction Editors
Marsella Martino, Leah Mele
Non-fiction Editors
Salvatore Gugliotta, Michelle Zimmerman
Poetry Editors
Angel Hogan, Lexi Reader
Visual Art Editors
Jeannine A. Cook, Adele McKenna
Website Designer
Caitlyn McGonigal
Administrator
Jahdae Gardener
Staff
Dylan Brown, Sarah Campli, Derek Carlson, Ty Duggan, Jaime Grookett, George MacMillan, Emily Mras, Nick Perez,
Casy Stelitano, Julie Tran, Sheryl Young
In August, as part of a series on resilience, The New York Times ran author Jami Attenberg’s essay “Is Resilience Overrated?” In the article, Attenberg writes about how her fellow New Orleanians, celebrated for their resilience during the Hurricane Katrina disaster, have come to despise the word. Should the responsibility for resilience have been theirs in the first place, or should it have been the obligation of those who were elected and paid to represent their interests?
Attenberg finds that those who have shown the greatest resilience regard it skeptically as a fetishization. By focusing in our first issue of Paper Dragon on recovery and resilience, were we perpetuating a narrative by which those in power could wash their hands of the less fortunate, all while continuing to exploit them?
The fact is, right or wrong, many of us have had to buckle down, bootstrap, or get by in this year of changes. Maybe not to the extent of the Katrina survivors, or communities grappling with the horrific murders of George Floyd and Walter Wallace, Jr., or the incarcerated contributors to our “COVID on the Inside” package who are living and dying through the pandemic in an 8-by-10-foot cell, or immigrant families struggling to find work amidst bigotry and the economic shutdown, but in our own irrepressible ways.
The over 650 people who sent us their stories or visions of recovery and resilience in just the handful of months we were open for submissions exemplified this. Of those hundreds, we’re proud to share our selections, like Chuck Teixeira’s COVID-era character study; Athira Unni and Jennifer Schomburg Kanke’s contemporary feminism; William Doreski’s heartrending optimism in incremental, personal change; Allan Lake’s sense of humor in the face of death; Dorothy Spears’ vanishing memory juxtaposed against Steven Bailey’s all-too-present mind, and facing paranoia through a pandemic.
A few weeks ago, the United States showed its own resilience in the face of radical, right-wing militias, fascist attacks on our most vulnerable citizens, obstructionist government officials, outright racism, and, of course, a global pandemic. We voted. We voted in record numbers. We voted to reset the course of our country. During her victory speech, Vice President-elect Kamala Harris—the first woman, the first black person, the first person of Southeast Asian descent to be elected to the office—reminded us of Congressman John Lewis’ sentiment about democracy: “Democracy is not a state. It is an act.”
Similarly, resilience and recovery are not fixed states. They are not things we achieve. They are things we work at each hour, each day. The Latin root “re” necessitates something else: a previous condition, a connection to others, a doubling down. “Re” words do not merely exist. They are a process. With nearly half of all American voters having continued to endorse President Trump’s Muslim bans, child separation at the border, inaction on COVID, and tax plans benefitting only the wealthiest Americans, we must commit to the ongoing process of creating a culture reflective of our country’s highest ideals.
We hope that this first volume of the Paper Dragon does not fetishize resilience and recovery, but inspires it. Much like the election a few weeks ago, we hope it rejuvenates and reinvigorates our readers to work toward recovery and to practice resilience, no matter what the future holds. During the difficult and stressful days of the past few weeks, it was your work and talent that kept us going, and we hope it provides the same boost to all of our readers.
A poem by R.J. Smith.
A poem by Robert Beveridge.
Dear readers,
Six months ago, we had no idea what to expect when we launched Paper Dragon. Your enthusiastic response floored us. We received over 650 submissions hailing from our hometown of Philadelphia to locales as far away as Spain, Nigeria, India, and Australia. We were absolutely amazed by your talent, your voices, and the courage you have to share your work with the world.
Over the past six months, we had our own obstacles to overcome. We spent countless hours in online meetings and groups chats. Unforeseen logistical problems forced us to adjust our goals and push back deadlines. Our staff shrunk as people moved out of our program and dealt with health and family issues.
As we were finalizing this letter, we heard that the police killed Walter Wallace in west Philadelphia and protests and riots ensued. Struggling against the trivial, daily barriers fortune throws at us, as well as systemic, global, existential threats, it is easy to become overwhelmed. To be frozen to inaction. To resign ourselves to a bleak, powerless future.
But we believe that we can make a difference, even if it is only in a small way, even if it is only in our own, small corner of the world. We believe that literature and art hold the keys to our common humanity, to understanding, to healing, to recovery and resilience. This work is important. Literature and art form a common cultural foundation that we will build our society on.
Today, we are proud to announce our first publications on www.drexelpaperdragon.com and the release date of Recovery & Resilience: November 20, 2020. Until then, we want to give you a sampling of some of the incredible work we have the pleasure to publish.
Today’s three poems speak to the importance of poetry and writing—the inspiration, catharsis, and revolution it can stir in soul.
Be sure to check back next week for three more inspiring poems and November 20 for full access to Recovery & Resilience.
Be safe. Be well,
Beth Ann Downey
Bill Vargo
Daniel Horn
Paper Dragon Managerial Editors
Begin Reading: “Why I Still Write”
A poem by Jorina Teneqexhiu.
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Email: paperdragon@drexel.edu