Hindsight Vol. III
To: Emma
by JOAN MCENHILL
"Siblinghood is fickle. Each sibling grows at their own pace, or they don’t. Each finds their own interests, or they don’t. And each has the freedom to be their own person, or they don’t. They are hopelessly intertwined and every decision that one makes will irreversibly affect the other..."
Hindsight Vol. III
To Walk In The World
​by QUENTIN PARKER
"Black people don’t go hiking.
I don’t hate nature. I hate insects, high humidity on a 95-degree day, freezing wind, and bird shit on the sidewalk. The years between elementary school and college were where I felt the lowest inclination to do any outdoor activities. Due to this aversion, I’ve never been white water rafting..."
Hindsight Vol. III
Blue Fish
​by DELANEY HARTMANN
"I am eighteen months old, flying through the sky. The chains that suspend me hit their peak, and I soar back down towards my dad’s open palms,waiting to push the swing again.This is our Saturday morning routine. We eat scrambled eggs and sausage— he cuts mine into little pieces—pack the stroller with water bottles and toys..."
Hindsight Vol. I
Liner Note from a Trans Kid
​by JAQ BRODY
"Hello.
You’re reading this undergrad art journal. You’re reading a college journal, and it’s been a long day—a long year, even, already—and you’re sort of bored, sort of dozing off, and then— the word "You" makes you snap up and pay attention.
You. Wait. Me?..."
Hindsight Vol. III
Home Blend
​by RACHEL LYSAGHT
"Dad grabs the ceramic blue teapot and carefully swishes it with hot water. “You’ve got to scald the pot—it’s the most important thing you can do. Keeps the tea hot.” He pours the water out and reaches the pot towards me. “Give it a feel.” It’s hot to the touch. The rest of the water in the kettle is slowly rumbling, its sound the low howl of the night breeze caressing window sills..."
Hindsight Vol. III
The S.S. Rhode Island
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​by EDWARD KINCAID
" I didn’t used to do it. I started by eating dinner at the table like a regular, vertical person. But then I decided that I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts and so I started to read a book with dinner. This proved unsustainable as my attention span waned and I kept getting dollar-store tomato sauce on my overdue copy of The Corrections. More than that though, it just became hard to think about anything,..."