“Justine, if Living Hyphen is all about amplifying diverse and historically underrepresented voices, then why is your Creative Director a white man?”

A handful of people have asked me this since launching Living Hyphen and to be quite honest, I’m surprised more people don’t continue to ask. It’s an important question and it’s one that I dwell on a lot especially now as Josh, our Creative Director, and I ramp up on the design process of Issue 2.

Here’s the thing — I believe deeply in amplifying diverse voices, but I also believe deeply in allyship. These two truths are not, in any way, mutually exclusive. If anything, achieving equitable diversity is impossible without allyship. While it’s important for our communities to create alternate spaces for ourselves, we also need allies to use their existing power and access to resources to share opportunities with us, to lift while they climb, and to redistribute their power.

Being an ally means being willing to act with and for others in pursuit of dismantling systems of oppression to achieve equality and equity at all times. Even when it is uncomfortable and inconvenient. Especially when it is uncomfortable and inconvenient.

How do I begin this post without sounding like a cliché about this most “challenging and unprecedented” time? By telling you instead that Living Hyphen’s second year has been bursting with unexpected opportunities and once unimaginable possibilities.

In the backdrop of a global pandemic that has brought so much chaos, anguish, and loss, we have been immensely fortunate to carve out a safe and tender pocket for ourselves to find new ways to thrive, create, and continue to connect.

It always feels uncomfortable writing “success” or “milestone” posts. I often worry that it comes off as arrogant and immodest––even more so now knowing that so many are struggling.

But as I repeatedly tell myself: we live in a world where there is always something more to chase, more to achieve, more to give and it is so crucial that we pause and recognize our efforts and all the fruits that they bear. And I guess it’s precisely because this year has been so full of grief that I want to take a moment to take stock of the good, to express gratitude for all we’ve been able to accomplish despite the messiness of 2020. To speak it out loud feels so much more crucial now more than ever.

And so, for our second rotation around the sun, I happily share all the meaningful, powerful, and significant things that Living Hyphen has manifested!

Curating the stories for our inaugural issue was a revelation to me. I saw for the first time the very real and very serious power that editors and publishers have as gatekeepers of stories in our society. Being back in the editorial seat after a year(ish) hiatus was a powerful reminder of that, and this time on an even bigger scale as we received triple the submissions and grown our platform in the thousands since launching back in 2018.

As I go through the editorial process, I keep thinking to myself—who am I to say whose stories get published, printed, and ultimately, told? Who are any one of us to hold this position of gatekeeper?

At the end of February, I returned home to Canada after a month-long trip to the Philippines, my motherland. I missed all of the border closures by just a couple of weeks experiencing no major inconveniences or challenges on my travels. When I think about all that has happened in the last month or so, I am immensely grateful to have made it back to my adopted home where I am safe and comfortable during a time of global crisis.

All of this has made me think deeply and critically about my privilege as a hyphenated Canadian — slipping easily back and forth between places as it suits me, as it conveniences me, and, in this specific moment, as it keeps me safe.