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MYRIAM J. A. CHANCY What Our Grandmothers Knew A Fetu Words ofGreetingjrom the Editor When they torture your mother plant a tree —Alice Walker, Torture" To assume the editorship ofMeridians is to assume stewardship ofa venue for creative and scholarly exchange long in the making; it is, in my mind, to assume the position ofa midwife ofsorts to deliver the voices and visions ofwomen ofcolorwhose works in progress reflect the lives ofother women, though no longer ofthis earth, who have provided the sacrificial blood for each our own making. I am speaking here ofour grandmothers , those we may have known and those we may not have known, my grandmother and yours, yes, yours, a world away on the other side of the globe, meridian lines separating us into hemispheres, and then into fractious borders delimiting nations, cities, paved and unpaved roads. The lives ofwomen ofcolor are defined by borders, those imposed, and those self-created to buffer our exclusions. This journal, I believe, offers an opportunity for opening up zones within which we might communicate the fabric ofwomen ofcolor's lives, the texture ofour experiences and theorizings. It is my hope that in my time as editor itwill be possible to make this a venue in which not only our predecessors' lives but also those ofwomen who do not have easy access to academic forums, might be given light, even if—as is often the case—by proxy. Such a venue might potentially offer a ground that in its ability to shift, to stretch to another's reality, to recognize and take in thatwhich is not recognizably or comfortablywhat orwho we (the readers) might assume ourselves to be, a ground which does not shift, a safe ground for exchanges that may be confrontational at times, comforting at others, but always challenging and progressive, opening up doors onto fields ofknowledge that can inform each ofus about howvarious societies are actively shaping the tenor ofwomen ofcolor's lives in these unstable times. What our grandmothers knew, ofcourse, is that there have never been stable times for women ofcolor. This issue marks a transition in the growth ofthe journal—a new look, a hopefully more expansive outlook. My thanks go to our designer, Maureen Scanlon, for helping myselfand managing editor Liz Hanssen to implement changes already envisaged by the founding local editorial board and previous editor, Kum-Kum Bhavnani. We hope this and ensuing issues will meet with the vision ofthe original creative energies behind Meridians. The image that graces the cover ofthis issue bespeaks the necessity ofclaiming and reclaiming the fire that has galvanized women ofcolor's lives. In her painting, Piedade, Mexican American artist Gabriela Muñoz brings to life one ofToni Morrison's characters in Paradise and, in so doing, connects her own heritage to that ofAfrican Americans; she makes visible the agony and strength ofan earthly life transcended, only to be born again to make other lives possible in the tree-like Medusa of her image. I am thankful to her for allowing us to make use ofthis image as the first piece ofcover art for Meridians, for through it she bridges both cultural worlds and material/spiritual worlds. As Muñoz writes in her artist statement, her Piedade is the tangible manifestation of"hope [for] a future rooted in strength and remembering." At the heart ofthis issue is the intent to remember those who have cleared the paths on which we walk presently, as scholars, as poets, as artists (artists in all senses ofthe word, as it takes heart and art to live well in a difficult world). Our issue begins with a tribute to the late June Jordan and others recently departed, including Claudia Tate, Toni Cade Bambara, and Barbara Christian. We are grateful to Jill Posener and to the estate ofJune Jordan for permission to reprint her memorial photo here alongwith one ofthe essays that revealed June Jordan's desire and will to confront borders ofrace, gender, and class magnified by shifts in national identifications. Her essay, "Report from the Bahamas," reveals her own coming to terms with her relative privileges as a Black woman from the U.S. in a third-world context and parallels...

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