Synecdoche 2023 Editorial Team

Creative Works Committee

Scholarly Works Committee

Dylan Cuffari & Mikyla Bultsma

Letter From the Editors

Michael Robles and Megan Luebberman

Four years ago, one of us wrote a poem about the idea that we cannot create something profound with the intention of it being profound. Writing this letter, we were confronted with a similar issue. How can one write something that perfectly culminates in an entire journal consisting of art, writing, and creativity by various students at a university?

The truth is, it’s hard. No single word, sentence, or entire letter can perfectly summarize the authenticity of a project like Synecdoche.

Until one word, or concept, came to mind: vulnerability.

As a creative, it is terrifying to be vulnerable in one’s work. Moreover, it takes courage to let a single person, let alone an entire editorial team, see your work. Because, it’s not just your work. It’s a display of your very soul, the inner workings of your mind and heart poured out. Whether fiction or autobiographical, paint or photography, something lyrical or repetitious–there’s deeper meaning beneath the surface. Some pieces become reflections of our lives, intentional or not. Others stand as a testament to life’s truths–its tragedies and triumphs, its joys and pains.

Creatives come in all forms. No matter the medium, artistic expression is valuable. In many words or few, a story can reveal a lifetime. Similarly, one standalone photograph can speak emotion and age into a lone landscape. An art piece can evoke passion, longing, and mixed sentiments. An essay, carefully crafted, can embody the realities of present-day discussions in a masterful way. All in all, the form doesn’t matter–the heart of the artist does.

A mental game of back-and-forth tends to develop in a creative’s mind when making something. Pride and shame stand at our shoulders, pleading with us to either put it on display or destroy it. I love this, we say. The fact that every piece of it, from beginning to end, contains a part of us that we have never shared before. Or, I hate this, we say. Every piece of it seems horrendous, as though we never should have made it in the first place. However, we dare to finish it, unveil it to the world, and await acknowledgment.

Waiting for either mockery or praise is daunting; another step in the process of sharing your work with the world. When the waiting period is finally over, you hear what everyone thinks about your piece. Regardless of the audience, whether it be a friendly face, a professor’s desk, or an expectant audience, facing feedback is tough. While it takes bravery to create something, it takes just as much, if not more, to share it. Yet, many did share with Synecdoche this year.

Synecdoche is more than a culmination of the creative minds that populate Vanguard. It’s more than a selection of what emphasizes the literary, artistic, and scholarly prowess that the student body possesses. Synecdoche is an image of who we are, what we do, and what we aspire to be. We strove for the 20th Anniversary Edition of this project, of this message, to show Vanguard what it takes to be a creative. The authenticity, the aspirations, and the faces that represent not just what creativity means, but what it can provide.

For 20 years, Synecdoche has been a project, a vital stepping stone for Vanguard’s English department. But it is more than that. It is a voice for the students who dare to be creative. And for 20 more years, it will be a collection of bravery, authenticity, and vulnerability. Synecdoche is that. A dare to be vulnerable. A dare to be creative. A dare to have a voice.