Dear readers,
I remember reading our mission statement when I first joined Inscape and thinking about how cool it was that it mentions both following Jesus Christ and celebrating the stories of many diverse people. I was so excited to be able to hold what seemed to me at the time to be two opposites in one mission statement.
It wasn’t until this first semester, when I served as editor-in-chief and thought harder than I’d ever thought before about what types of pieces I wanted to champion and share and celebrate, that I had an epiphany. I realized that following Jesus Christ and celebrating diverse stories are not opposites! Jesus Christ walked with and loved and listened to people of all backgrounds. In fact, following the instructions of our mission statement, “publishing and celebrating works from people of all religious perspectives, countries, cultures, ethnicities, sexual orientations, genders, backgrounds, and experiences,” has brought me closer to Christ.
Literature and art teach us to see each other and to see the world more clearly. I’m so glad to see a world filled with people with so many different perspectives from my own. Over the past several months, as I’ve read story after story and poem after poem, I’ve developed a new appreciation for how literature helps me hold both the pain and joy of this world. I’ve seen more clearly a world that is never quite as clear cut as we wish it were, that is more complex and painful but also more hopeful and beautiful than I can express in these few sentences. The stories in this issue of Inscape have taught me that you can laugh even while grieving, like in Lily Jensen’s “Last Hours,” which interrupts the scene of her grandfather’s last moments with the words of Guy Fieri (and yes, it’s exactly like it sounds—you will first laugh and then cry). This issue teaches readers to see beauty in the face of loss, like in George Dibble’s “Your Aspen Home” and “Growing Children,” which portray the presence of a lost loved one in the “knotted arm’s sway” of an aspen and show that you can find the sublime even in the murky waters of a dock found in our fabulous cover art by Roger Camp.
I’m also grateful for the staff with whom I get to experience this art. I’ve seen how they care for one another, how they’ve buoyed me up in my darkest moments, how they’ve approached each submission we receive with respect, precision, and openness. They are some of the hardest-working, funniest, kindest, and smartest people I know. It is because of them that Inscape this past year has been able to form its first advisory board, run its first paying contests, grow its Instagram following from 500 to 5,000, allow its staff to attend the largest creative writing conference in the nation for the first time, and receive submissions from all 50 states and from 36 different countries.
Each week in our staff meeting, we split into small groups and answer one of the New York Times’s 36 questions to fall in love to get to know each other. I always joke with the staff that we’re trying to fall in love with each other (in a friend way—don’t worry!) because the better we know each other, the better we can curate art together. I’ll never forget how after a particularly hard week, I went to join a group during this activity and got there after they were mostly already done discussing. I almost got up to move away, feeling left behind, but one of our staff members shouted out, “Wait, Kate! We want to fall in love with you too!” I felt so seen and taken care of. I knew I had found my people. And I can say that we have not only fallen in love with each other, but we’ve fallen in love with each piece of art and writing in this issue.
Each piece of literature and art that we’ve chosen to publish treats difficult topics with maturity and respect. They hold a million nuances, a million contradictions, and a million dichotomies. They’ve helped me see this world for the wild, tempestuous, hopeful, painful, terror-filled, astonishing, ugly, harmonious, fragile, divided, chaotic, harsh, vibrant, abundant, resilient, divine, and awe-filled place that it is.
I can’t wait for you to experience them for yourself.
