On my walk home from Western’s south end of campus to my apartment in the heart of downtown Bellingham, I notice how individuality and community intertwine. Despite the dark clouds ominously floating above our heads, folks gather, laugh and talk amongst themselves. I pass by someone holding up a camera, encouraging his friend to skateboard down a staircase. Strangers stop to watch, hyping him up. He goes for it, wipes out, yet still, everyone claps and cheers him on. 

It takes courage to throw oneself off a staircase and hope to land safely onto a piece of wood with wheels, and yet he tried it. Over and over again. Would the onlookers have tried it? Who knows, but they stood there and made this stranger feel like it could be done. That’s just one example of what solidarity looks like: standing behind those who are falling, even when you share nothing in common.

No one is perfect. Nothing is perfect. It’s the small things that add up and hold us together. “It takes a village” is not just a saying for the hell of it. Growth and change truly are collective efforts. Every day is a new chance to learn. Only by being in solidarity with each other can we move forward. In solidarity, your spirit can never break, and I find that the stories of this edition reflect that. Flipping through these pages, you will find solidarity reflected in people fighting for justice and fighting for others, to finding community in unlikely spaces. 

This edition would not have been possible without the 20-plus people who came together eager to create something. We wouldn’t have stories if it weren’t for writers searching to give the silenced a voice, and editors who help to amplify them even more. We wouldn’t have stories if it weren’t for writers searching to give