Dear Readers,
The world is jumbled, dissonant, shapeshifting. With the COVID-19 pandemic came the unplanned cancellation of travel plans, performances, and reunions, submerging us in a veil of remote schooling and working. What initially seemed like a momentary pause escalated into a prolonged silence. Although the world has erupted into protests in solidarity with #BlackLivesMatter, many of us heard (or could not hear) the alarming silence reverberating from once-respected politicians and organizations. Silence is no longer tranquil; it is loud. And now more than ever, silence seems to be our constant companion, whether it is lurking in the dusty corners of the kitchen or blaring in our social media feeds.
Yet, even amidst such moments of silence, there are voices that yearn to be heard. As creative writers and artists, many of us have found solace in the power of creativity and connections among fellow artists, writers, and advocates. We have illuminated black voices in our BLM feature series, finding reassurance and hope in their words. Now, more than ever, we listen to marginalized voices; at The Lumiere Review, this is our new epoch of combating silence with the authentic voices of all ages and backgrounds.
It feels slightly out-of-place to publish our inaugural issue at this moment, to celebrate our talented writers and artists, and to share our excitement when there is much more to fight for. But it seems even more pertinent to shine the light on our contributors and we hope you find little fragments of awe and enlightenment chiseled in our first issue.
Thank you to all our submitters, staff, and readers for being our brightest stars. Your light will be etched in eternity.
All my best,
Jessica Kim
Founder and Editor-in-Chief
The Lumiere Review