Editor’s Notes—Security
Blood Orange Review 7.2

Where do we find security—in the house where we grew up, behind the walls that protect us from uncertainty, in the sunlight, under the covers, among friends or relatives? Obviously for each person, each race and gender, the answer is different. Because I have three children, I find security in the work I do, in the small amount of money deposited in my bank account each month. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, I am lucky. Currently over 12 million people in the United States are unemployed—that’s roughly 8%.

I imagine this number contributes to a portion of our audience, many of whom are well-educated and have college loans to pay back. Others may have part-time jobs or work as college instructors on 1-year contracts. Whether employed or not, we writers, artists, and editors often contribute uncompensated work to our larger literary community. We search for ways to play a role, to factor in, to add another line to our curriculum vitae, and we hope the work provides at least a sense of security to our field, to our collective body of work. Ultimately, we fight for a way to remain.

In this issue, a gymnastics instructor seeks forgiveness (Abbey Numedahl’s “Handspring”), a fifteen-year-old girl embraces life (Lindsay Purves’ “Concept Analysis”), and a family copes with divorce (Deborah Bacharach’s “Secrets”). Where do we find security? Here you will not find one single answer. So we urge you to simply sit back and enjoy, to find comfort in our community, and to cheer them on the way Wendy Drexler cheers on her community in this poem I admire entitled “10th Avenue, Manhattan”:

Keep on, contenders, you and I brimming, beautiful
             solitudes, as though we’d chosen this life together,
                                     as though we had nowhere
                                                    else to go.

Bryan Fry, editor
Blood Orange Review

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

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