Issuu

Designed and Edited by Rumbidzai Lorraine Mudzongo & Hannah Morrissey

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,developingandmeetingourmembers' andcommunity'sneedsandpassions.

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, cooperationandconversation.

The theme “Little Voices” seeks to amplify the positionofchildrenwithintheremitofglobal 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.

Gratitudeandpridecannotbegintoencapsulate how wonderful it has been to be immersed amongst such an engaged, passionate, and hardworking community of unique individuals. This zineisnotonlythetipoftheicebergforthe 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

You'remyanchor,myharbor

Iknowyouunderstand Icantalktoyouand Itbringsmecalm

You'remyrockinthestorm

Whenthey'regettingtome

Andtheydon'tevenknow Iseethatyouseeit

Anditmakesmefeelgood

BecauseatleastI'munderstood

Bysomeonefromthisroad

Iknowthatyouknow

Whatit'sliketobedifferent

Fromthesesmalltownpeople

Andtheirprovinciallives

They'rehappyhere

Butweneverwere

Westruggledtofind

Ourplaceintheworld

StillIstruggletofind

Aplaceinthishome

Aplaceinthisfamily

CauseIdon'tbelong

Theymakemeuncomfortable

MakemefeellikeI'mwrong

ButIwasrightallalong Ijustdidn'tbelong

Inthispartoftheworld

WhereI'mjustasillygirl

I'mshallow,I'mlazy

I'mselfishIknow

Forchoosingmyself

To be loved To be loved

AJ Nagle

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

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

Thump, thump, thump

It's dark, too dark to see

Thump, thump, thump

The lights are blinding

Where's the kill switch?

I can't find the emergency door

Thump, thump, thump I hear screams

I hear laughter I hear tears

Even the silence feels loud

There's never a quiet moment

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

Thoughts rummage through my head and sirens blast around

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 AndS P O O N S

I heard her speak

SPEAK UP SPEAK UP SPEAK UP

And in that moment

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

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 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.