Editor's Letter: Dimension

Dear Reader,

I write this letter today with shaking hands, eyes that still have not stopped weeping, and a glowing soul.

This day has been an important one: for me, for my closer communities, and for this country. In the hours I’ve spent from sunrise to sundown reflecting on the events of yesterday night’s election, I have accessed and seen the most profound levels of human empathy play out on sidewalks and school hallways, the most inspirational acts of resistance, and the most brave willingness to defy, defy, defy.

There is no use for me to fill this page with my words; instead, I believe it is far more important to present to you a collage of sources that have pushed me and my loved ones through pain, that have helped me and my loved ones coexist with this pain, and that have helped me find solace and some level of certainty during a time characterized by total oblivion.

My only wish for you, Reader, is that you will find your hope--no matter how convinced you are of this omnipresent despair, no matter the murk--and remember, in the end, exactly what Kiana once said:


Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

--From And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou.

Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.

Reprinted by permission of Random House, Inc

Hillary Clinton’s address to the youth in her November 9th Concession Speech:

"I hope you will hear this. I have...spent my entire adult life fighting for what I believe in. I've had successes and I've had setbacks. Sometimes, really painful ones. Many of you are at the beginning of your professional public and political careers. You will have successes and setbacks, too. 

This loss hurts, but please never stop believing that fighting for what's right is worth it."


Ory Okolloh’s TED Talk on how she became an activist.


"Mad" by Solange (ft. Lil Wayne)


Still we rise.