“Who is: Woman” has been a labor of resilience. This issue comes in the first semester of my new job, after a long recovery from COVID. I am no longer an English teacher…after seventeen years. I am now an Education Technology Specialist. With the new identity, I have more questions than answers and because of the questions, I delayed the release thinking the answers would come. Well it’s December, and we have not released an issue and, surprising no one, no answers have risen to the surface either. Who is this woman who has been an English teacher for so long? I don’t know. She is starting again. A reinventor of identity. 

“Who is: Woman” arrives severely late, drenched in nostalgia and fierce anger. The writing in this issue is about the fullness of identity, the ghosts within, the memories she holds, her ancestors’ power, and the anger of not being heard. All these parts are inside and turning always. The complexity of identity is beautiful and hard to face at times. As I start my identity as an educator over, I am reminded of this truth even more. The ghosts of my past self linger, show up, remind me that I am still me. The past is constant as I move forward. My mom teaching a poem as she sat atop her desk to an 8th grade class is here as I teach about the machines that help us live our lives easier. I hope the stories in this issue impact each of us and the collective. And I hope as you read this issue, you are able to slide between the individual stories and our collective experiences in this world.

I chewed on this idea of what it means to be me a lot and for a little too long as I prepared this issue. Questions like: Who is this woman? Is she worthy? Is she making a mark in this world? Does what she thinks and says matter, if only a handful of people are listening? Is womanhood about the collective or the individual? 

Who is this woman? 

A woman who loves to work on herself and this world. Even if this work is small and impact even smaller.