A Letter From the Editor

I lament. Not because this is my country. This is, in fact, not my country. I lament not because I am an immigrant—I’m on what’s called a non-immigrant visa, which makes me a “non-immigrant.” This lamentation feels somewhat futile, but I lament a democracy I never knew. I lament the ballot I never had. I lament that these actions and politics of one imperialist country will affect the reality of many others.

I lament that self-determination has been proven, time and time again, to be a myth that wittingly leaves the voiceless unheard, and the marginalized defenseless. I lament that the already war-torn world is headed towards a point where recovery and reconciliation, although possible, are postponed by years, if not a matter of decades. I lament my own ignorance, and that sense of artificial comfort—my unsubstantiated confidence with regard to a tale of progress.

I lament the collective complicity that has led to a reality where the space for resistance is infinitely compressed, where common sense about human dignity is brazenly ignored. I lament the constant fear that women, trans people, immigrants, and people of color have to live with, the anxiety and apprehension used as a device of psychological tyranny in order to subdue public outcries of discontent.

But I refuse to believe that our future will be one of grievance. In fact, anger has never felt so powerful. The imminence of danger portends the imminence of action. Our future starts when we wake up every morning, determined to perturb the status quo that favors those nestled in the privilege of unknowing. Our future starts when we step out of our room, ready to live life to the fullest even in a hostile world. Our future is radical love, radical care. Our future starts now.

Xuezhu Jenny Wang

Editor-in-Chief | jenny@impulsemag.org