30.11.2012 Views

Aerie InternationaL - Missoula County Public Schools

Aerie InternationaL - Missoula County Public Schools

Aerie InternationaL - Missoula County Public Schools

SHOW MORE
SHOW LESS

Create successful ePaper yourself

Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.

To the Reader:<br />

As we neared production of this, our 2 nd issue of <strong>Aerie</strong> International, I<br />

couldn’t help but reflect on our aspirations for this magazine. One was to<br />

establish a legitimate journal for young people, a journal of writing and art<br />

that young people could claim as their own. We wanted it be one of beauty.<br />

We hoped to make connections, not only for our editors and the people we<br />

were fortunate enough to encounter on and off these pages, but also to offer<br />

the means for young people far outside our sphere to meet. Having pen pals<br />

is great, but what if we could give young people the opportunity to share<br />

their art in their own magazine?<br />

It is a usual day for me to enter the classroom and find Katie, our 2009<br />

Editor, sitting cross-legged on a table, reading from a manuscript or waving<br />

one in front of my face (I mean that literally), usually accompanied with the<br />

command: “Lorilee, this is AMAZING. You HAVE to read it.”<br />

She is usually right.<br />

That’s how I first came to hear, “Worker Bee,” a story about what might<br />

be described as a very conventional narrator and his obsession with an<br />

equally unconventional young “antagonist.” Jake Ross manages to take<br />

on environmental issues, high school, middle America, and its fringes.<br />

His characters are whimsical and delicious and irreverent, at once both<br />

fantastical and oddly real.<br />

In her memoir, “Navy Blue,” Emma Pimmental speaks of visiting a<br />

hippotherapy farm in Sudan for children from underfunded hospitals. These<br />

children have been abandoned by war, disease and poverty that is nearly<br />

incomprehensible outside the developing world. Emma walked to Jane-<br />

Ann’s farm twice a week all summer in the Sudanese heat and dust to help.<br />

“I learned more about love and humankind that summer than I ever have<br />

before or since,” Emma writes.<br />

I don’t know that I could have picked two pieces from the magazine less<br />

alike. And yet they are about what the entirety of this journal, all of art,<br />

perhaps, is about—coming to the center of a thing and laying it bare, first<br />

to discover it for oneself, and then, if we are very lucky, to share it. This<br />

magazine is full of those kinds of moments, in image and in word.<br />

Many pieces poke fun at our cultures and who we are. Annie Chang<br />

writes about growing up Asian-American in central Oklahoma, “where just<br />

five minutes from my home are real cattle farms and horse ranches.” She<br />

says she likes to laugh at herself, and in so doing, gives all of us permission<br />

to laugh, not only at her, but at ourselves as well. Her story is part memoir,<br />

part fiction, about shopping trips to Wal-Mart where her mother insists,<br />

over her daughter’s protestations, to buy soymilk for the family “primarily<br />

because Oprah Winfrey tells her to.” Her story is hilarious, a convergence of<br />

cultures and coupons.<br />

Whether visual art, photography or writing, the pieces are about longing<br />

and love, about society, about what we accept and what we do not. In<br />

“Killing Beauty,” photographer Gabriella Otero formally poses two young<br />

girls in party dresses in a field. They are focused like manikins on an<br />

electrical power station in the distance, their backs to the viewer. Austin

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!