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This mini-zine is brought to you by a co llaboration with Georgetown Rangila 30 Thank you to the Rangila 30 Philanthropy Board for coordinating this partnership and thank you to Little Sisters Fund for making this ‘zine what it is. If you are interested in learning more about Rangila 30’s philanthropic mission and how to donate, go to georgetownrangila.org and littlesistersfund.org
painting by Chadani
painting by Chadani
Nothing
For in the eyes of the uneducated white man,
drawing by Durga
by Maya Singhal
We are nothing, but a caricature of poverty, crime, and stupidity dirty. For we are nothing, but fuel for malice and ignorance. Nothing, but a means of production. For we must work perilously to be seen as equal, and we must perish to seek respect. But maybe in our suffering, we will be seen as less of a threat, less of a weapon. And as we weaken and shrink, our skin, dangerous, dark, impure, will become less of a threat,
Our existence will be less of a color and more of a person. For maybe if we bleach our skin, conceal our identity, shed our melanin, until we turn clear. Maybe only then, when we are truly nothing, we will be seen as enough.
by Bilquisu Abdullah
photography
by Upama
poetry
The SparkWithin You
by Upama
When shadows stretch across your way, And night feels longer than the day, When dreams fall down like shattered glass, And strength seems something you can’t amass.
Remember this: you’re not alone; In every heart a fre’s sown. A spark that waits beneath the pain, A light that grows, through faint and strained.
The journey’s hard the mountains steep, But hold the hope you long to keep One step, one breath, just one more mile, And in the dark, fnd strength to smile.
For storms may rage and rivers roar, But you are stronger than before. In every tear and every scar, Lies proof of who and what you are. So rise again, with heart unbowed, A warrior quiet, ferce and proud. For even when the nights feel long, photography by
