3 Ceartas AY2526-compressed

LITTLE

Designed and Edited by Rumbidzai Lorraine Mudzongo & Hannah Morrissey

voices

Issue 3

UCC GLOBAL JUSTICE SOCIETY 06/2026

OUR LITTLE VOICES

CONTENTS Letter from the Co-Chairpersons

Spoons - Alec De Prato

Our campaigns & activities

Speak up - Bella Donovan

Thanks for being my friend Cornelia Hauch Skovmand

I’m sorry - Rumbidzai Mudzongo

To be loved - AJ Nagle Jigsaw pieces - Alec De Prato My little one - Ish Satra Crossword puzzle Vienna, Billy Joel – once wasn’t enough - Hannah Morrissey

Little voices playlist UCC Global Justice Society Committee 25/26 Thoughts & Reflections Thank you Crossword puzzle answers

LETTER FROM THE

CO-CHAIRPERSONS

UCC Global Justice Society is nothing if not wholly vibrant, electric and inspiring. Ideas, concerns and passions that may start small are seized upon and brought through the exhilarating process of brainstorming, team collaboration and actualisation. The Global Justice Society is dedicated to vibrantly expressing, developing and meeting our members' and community's needs and passions.

Collective action requires passionate and kind individuals. However, activism is frequently accompanied by talk of burnout. Therefore, these theme prompts us to look within ourselves, to our inner child, to heal and to grow, acknowledging our interactions with the world and its complexities. This aligns with the Global Justice Society’s work on proactive activism, wherein change takes time, cooperation and conversation.

The theme “Little Voices” seeks to amplify the position of children within the remit of global justice. To varying extents, children are caught within the social, economic and geopolitical labyrinths of our world.“Little Voices” aims to highlight children and their experiences navigating these complexities whilst simultaneously asking students to look inwards to their own inner child and younger self.

Gratitude and pride cannot begin to encapsulate how wonderful it has been to be immersed amongst such an engaged, passionate, and hardworking community of unique individuals. This zine is not only the tip of the iceberg for the work we have done as a society, but also a glimpse of what is to come as our community grows; and for that, we wait with eager anticipation.

Le grá, Hannah Morrissey and Freddie Phipps

Our year in a few snapshots

Thank you for being my friend in the end You make me feel safe you ground me always

Thanks for being my friend

Cornelia Hauch Skovmand

You're my anchor, my harbor I know you understand I can talk to you and It brings me calm You're my rock in the storm When they're getting to me And they don't even know I see that you see it And it makes me feel good Because at least I'm understood By someone from this road I know that you know What it's like to be different From these small town people And their provincial lives They're happy here But we never were We struggled to find Our place in the world Still I struggle to find A place in this home A place in this family Cause I don't belong They make me uncomfortable Make me feel like I'm wrong But I was right all along I just didn't belong In this part of the world Where I'm just a silly girl I'm shallow, I'm lazy I'm selfish I know For choosing myself And my own mental health So weird how I try to Not stress out like them

Thank you for being my friend in the end You make me feel safe You ground me always

Can you give me a hug When my world is crashing I'm so easily overwhelmed When I am in this house I know I said I was fine But that was a lie I just didn't wanna cry Right before dinner My patience grows thinner So ask me another time When they aren't around Cause I can't open up In this atmosphere Maybe I shouldn't be here Maybe I need some space I don't think they can face That they made me this way And it's so hard to say Cause I don't feel safe And I don't want to break Their heart or their faith So it's just me and my strength Do you think that's okay Do you think we'll be fine If I don't ever tell Them all the ways In which they let me down Or do you think that it's something I have to do for myself And my own mental health If I say it or not at least it's a help That you're here today And I just have to say Thank you for being my friend in the end You make me feel safe You ground me always So please will you stay

To be To be loved loved To be loved is to be changed, they say; And every love I have ever had has changed me in some way.

My first boyfriend when I was 15, Michael, loved summer so much that he turned me from an autumn gal into a summer lover, and it is still that way over 10 years later.

An old housemate, Caoimhe, showed me how easy plant based cooking could be, and now I’ve been a vegetarian for several years; and her friend showed me how to make a satay sauce so banging it is still in my weekly meal rotation.

My friend Tadhg tweeted about co-ops one time and now I have a masters degree in the subject.

A friend I had in primary school, Katie, used to send me postcards every time she went to visit her family in Malta, and now I have a postcard collection so large it takes up an entire drawer in my house.

My friend Freddie helped me get over my fear of the dentist and because of them, I now have very strong opinions about floss.

Another old housemate, Kate, recommended books to me from amazing authors who are now on my ‘automatically purchase’ list.

And a new friend, Alec, is showing me that a book club can be just two people who are passionate and excited to listen to one another.

One of my dearest friends, Hannah, fostered such a deep love of hummus in me that it is a detriment to us both when we get to be together.

And my other friend, Rachel, has shown me it is best to laugh in bad situations; like when you’re stuck on a train going to the French border when you’re meant to be at the office in Brussels (we were very late that day).

My nana taught me a love for shopping that runs deep into my bones - but my friends Isabel and Erin have shown me how to do it second hand to be more sustainable.

And I walk with my hands behind my back just like my grandad did when he walked his dogs every day, and I loved him so much I wanted to be just like him. And my mum passed her love of dogs that she got from him, down to my brother and I - our family home has never been without the love of a dog.

And while my partner Kelan has taught me so much over the past few years - more importantly, and most shockingly, he has turned me into a cat lover, just like him.

Some changes were loud, others barely whispered; but each one reshaped me.

I am who I am because I loved you.

AJ Nagle

When we sang loudly in the car, Our voices gently pushing the boundaries of its frame, I went to see my inner child and for the first time in forever, they were smiling, happy and calm Just like a child would

JIGSAW PIECES Alec De Prato

That night we snuck out in the rain, Climbing out the window, barely containing our giggles, I went to see my inner teenager, and for the first time in forever, They let me hug them, They didn’t try to push me away They put their head on my chest and let their tears flow, A warm yet heartbreaking image I never knew before, Truth is, it gave me hope, Hope for a time in which hugs will be just that, no worries for my back Hope for a house in which laughter echoes down the hall, No longer a disguise for pain Now, My inner child keeps giggling And my inner teenager is less stoic You've made me find a way To turn the mundane tasks of adulthood Into something enjoyable, to cherish

Maybe this is what they mean by being grownups, Making a home cosy enough for our inner children to live carefree and thrive Where everything becomes easier when holding hands And I Quite like unpacking boxes with you And while the confusion and sadness are still there, Playing hide and seek sometimes, in and out of boxes We are getting better at discerning them from afar Ready to snatch them from their hideout

My Little one My little one, you stood with me when the world perfected the art of abandonment.

When silence became policy.

When darkness wore suits and called itself order.

You stayed.

My little one, you deserve honour; because a woman bled you into existence in a world addicted to dominance.

You were not born to assimilate.

You were born to interrupt.

So now, I speak.

Because my little one, you deserve justice; not the decorative kind, not the polite kind, not the kind that fits inside speeches and dies inside systems.

To fracture religion where it cages humanity.

To challenge culture where it justifies cruelty.

To dismantle traditions that profit from pain.

You deserve real justice.

Justice in classrooms that do not erase your history.

Justice in textbooks that do not bleach your skin.

Justice in institutions that do not mistake obedience for intelligence or silence for peace.

You deserve an education that teaches you how to survive trauma, navigate identity, balance friendships, love, labour, and learning without shrinking, without apologizing, without disappearing.

You were born to make humanity non-negotiable.

To fracture religion where it cages humanity.

To challenge culture where it justifies cruelty.

To dismantle traditions that profit from pain.

My little one, you deserve the truth; the violent, inconvenient, uncomfortable truth.

The truth of bodies criminalized for melanin.

The truth of children sexualized and bargain in.

The truth of power disguising itself as law.

The truth of courts that punish skin before they punish crime.

The truth of a ten-year-old forced into sublime.

Ish Satra

Say it.

Name it.

Expose it.

Because silence has never protected us.

My little one, you deserve change; not climate pledges and political poetry, but real transformation.

A world where clean water is not a privilege.

Where breathing is not a luxury.

Where survival is not a competition.

A world where children run freely, not from bullets.

Where parks echo laughter, not grief.

Where birds sing hope, not mourning.

My little one, you deserve a future that does not require permission.

A future where you speak the truth without fear of punishment.

Where you demand rights without earning your humanity.

Where your existence is not up for debate.

And when they tell you to calm down, remember: every revolution began with someone who refused to stay quiet.

When they tell you to wait, remember: justice delayed is justice denied.

When they tell you to be grateful, remember: you are not asking for charity.

You are demanding dignity.

Because you, my little one, are not a statistic.

Not a stereotype.

Not collateral damage.

You are resistance.

You are remembrance.

You are rebellion.

And it is you who will make this world accountable

6. In what month do we celebrate International Children's Day 11. The sound of joy 13. Something children are good at doing 15. What fruit is typically associated with solidarity with Palestine 17. At what age is a child considered an adult

19. The 1998 Disney movie about a young girl who joins the army in her father's place and becomes a hero 20. Abbreviation of international convention outlining children's rights

1. The name of the mouse in the popular children's cat and mouse cartoon 2. What every child deserves to have 3. What every child deserves to feel 4. One of the Winnie the Pooh characters with stripes and a springy tail 5. Popular song in the 1994 Lion King movie sung by Scar to an army of hyenas 7. What is every child entitled to regardless of age, nationality, gender, religion, etc.

8. The belief in full social, economic, and political equality of the sexes 9. The name of the UCC Global Justice mascot 10. One of the largest current humanitarian crises 12. Popular children's doll with many professions 14. A popular holiday for children to dress up as different characters 16. Irish word for child or baby 18. The fictional character that stole Christmas

Vienna, Billy Joel – once wasn’t enough.

That first listen marked the first note on the stave of years. Hours spiralled by as the lyrics moulded themselves into the ridges and folds of my brain.

Engulfing the crazy child, the lyrics seeped deeper until permanent in my mind.

It was as if the words held a flashlight close as they navigated the sulci of my brain, illuminating each shadowed grove with every turn.

I was young, though I can’t recall how young.

I was young, but old enough to recognise an incessant streak within myself.

No, a streak may imply impermanence.

This was a permanent marker, drawn from all I saw around me into my veins, outlining the path towards my heart.

So few hours in a day, yet each lit a fire – not a candle to forget, but a trail of flames burning their paths along the grooves of my mind.

Overlooking the city below stood that red-brick building, firm on its hill, abating the comfort of grandmother’s alongside.

I ate my Madeira slice. The fire went out long ago, the lapping of heat mere marks on red.

Yet in its embers the memories, not mine to hold, burned as quiet embers in the sulci.

What’s the hurry about? There are so many fires – is it wrong to choose which to try put out?

To put out in my mind or quieten the flame does not extinguish the flame beyond, no?

Then why the shame? Why the burn? I did not light it.

I grow, and the fire spreads.

But, maybe it was always there, and I have only grown to see its shades and scope; stories from a friend, cries from a screen, each a trail of flames dancing, encircling the markered route to my heart and mind.

How could I afford to lose a day or two? Who am I to deny the flames?

But I am burning.

Where is my flame?

Hannah Morrissey

Thump, thump, thump It's dark, too dark to see Thump, thump, thump The lights are blinding W h e r e's t h e k i l l switch?

I can't find the emergency door

S

Thump, thump, thump I hear screams I hear laughter I hear tears Even the silence feels loud T h e r e's n e v e r a q u i e t moment Thoughts rummage through my head and sirens blast around

Thump, thump, thump The ear-splitting noise is still there But the tunnel has gone dark I ran out of gas Thump, thump, thump I hear my heart beat Slow, too slow to move But I have things to do

O O N S P

Thump, thump, thump The phone is ringing Thump, thump, thump The kettle is boiling Thump, thump, thump The clock is ticking And I just stare And -

SPEAK UP

I heard her speak I heard the strain in her voice, the stretch of her vocal chords, throat splitting in two I saw the flooding water rush out of her eyes, waves cascading down a pale face I could see her fists The fists of a woman scorned White knuckles, the skin stretched over aching bones In a fist, clenched tightly She talks about what happened The moment that changed her life entirely

And in that moment When she bared her scars Each wound And shared the shrieks of constraint and obedience finally breaking free I could feel the weight The heavy burden that's been on my shoulders Lift

Just a bit But enough for me to take a breath A long inhalation, and exhale with peace She spoke up, and finally I felt that I could too This poem is about the first time I heard a women speak about her experiences of sexual assault, which made me feel like I was able to speak up not only for myself but for others.

As a child hearing brave voices of powerful women can make all the difference. I was able to speak up about my experiences because of the powerful women before me that speak up and tell their stories.

Bella Donovan

I’m sorry I’m sorry that the world did not welcome you with open arms and hearts.

That the first sounds you heard were the flying bombs and the drone of the planes overhead.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry you can’t walk to school with your friends anymore and wonder what new things you will learn. I’m sorry that your life has been decided for you before you could even live it.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that the beauty and abundance of your birthplace is the reason you will never know peace. I’m sorry that you have to work the soil whence you came from without ever enjoying its spoils.

I’m sorry.

How can we repay the debt we owe you, even as we continue to take from you? Will you continue to look up at us as your protectors or as the reason you are scared at night?

I’m sorry.

The children are our future, we continue to say as we destroy what little hope you had. If home is where the heart is, then we must have lost it as the bulldozers rolled through to crush your makeshift tents.

I’m sorry.

Maybe we should have kept our childish ways. Maybe we should have continued imaging a better world where the only sounds ringing are of laughter and joy.

I’m sorry.

Rumbidzai Mudzongo

The sounds of joy when i forgive you Sasha Allen

memories Maroon 5

why?

Tracy Chapman

little me

Little Mix

song for alicia

Haley Heynderickx, Max Garcia Conover

iwai nesu

who says

Chiwoniso

Selena Gomez & The Scene

you can call me al Paul Simon

UCC Global Justice Society Committee 2025/26

Freddie Phipps

Hannah Morrissey

Co-Chair

Co-Chair

Mara Bittmann

Secretary

Graphics & Video Officer

Kieran Stokes Ryan

Gary Robinson

Ish Satra

Alec De Prato Baietti

Marieke Yedo Lozone Zerbo

Project Manager

Campaigns Officer

Muireann Shortiss Day

Events Officer

OCM

Daniela Bendikova

1st Year Representative

Environmental Officer

Laviecoda Temitope Olupona Welfare and Accessibility Officer

Webmaster

Julka Taylor

Isabella Verfaillie Donovan

OCM

Fiona Edward Halton

Postgrad / Mature Student Representative

OCM

Ex-Officio

Cornelia Hauch Skovmand

Financial Officer

Riona Karen Daly

AJ Nagle

Joan Murphy-Leane

Muireann Kenehan

Entertainment Officer

RUMBIDZAI MUDZONGO

PUBLIC RELATIONS OFFICER

PUBLICATIONS OFFICER

Thoughts & Reflections To my younger self,

How would a younger version of you have wanted the future to look like?

Do you remember a time you used your ‘little voice’ to stand up for something ot someone?

What can you do to be a good community member to the children around you?

What is a memory from your childhood that you cherish the most?

Thank you!

6. November 11. Laughter 13. Daydream 15. Watermelon 17. Eighteen 19. Mulan 20. CRC

1. Jerry 2. Family 3. Loved 4. Tigger 5. Be Prepared 7. Education

8. Feminism 9. Earthy 10. Sudan 12. Barbie 14. Halloween 16. Leanbh 18. Grinch