Editor's Notes - Issue 1
Welcome to the inaugural issue of Stone Canoe. Why such a name for an arts journal? It is a long story, as the saying goes—a sacred Native American story, in fact, that dates back some 2000 years and is embedded in the DNA of our region. It is the story of the Peacemaker, who was chosen by the Great Spirit to travel from the shores of Lake Ontario to New York’s Finger Lakes region, to spread the message of peace and harmony among the warring tribes who lived there. The Peacemaker made his trip in a canoe carved out of white granite, causing his relatives great concern: how could it float? But it did, and by the miracle of his conveyance, people understood the power of his message, shared in the form of magic songs. The Peacemaker braved many hardships, but ultimately succeeded in converting the tribal chiefs to his vision, and founded the Haudenosaunee Confederacy, which had its first council fire on the shores of Onondaga Lake—perhaps where Syracuse’s Carousel Mall now sits. The Confederacy is regarded by many scholars as the first participatory democracy in the Western hemisphere, and its constitution, known as the Great Law of Peace, served as a blueprint for the founding fathers of the fledgling U.S. government, notably Washington and Franklin. The full story of the Peacemaker and his stone canoe can be found on various web sites, such as firstpeople.us. The lead essay in this issue, Robin Wall Kimmerer’s The Sacred and the Superfund, is both a scientific treatise and a meditation on the Peacemaker’s legacy, in the context of Onondaga Lake’s more recent ignominious history.
The Peacemaker’s story conjures up larger themes as well. It is
an ode to the possibilities of peaceful coexistence. As Robert Muller,
former Assistant Secretary General of the U.N., put it, the Peacemaker’s
journey is “perhaps the oldest effort for disarmament in world history.”
It is also a voyage of self-discovery and a testament to the transformative
power of art. In all these respects, Stone Canoe seems a fitting
name for Upstate New York’s new community arts journal.
Stone Canoe is a community project in the broadest sense. It
is committed to showcasing the work of artists and writers from, or somehow
connected to, the Upstate New York region. But, as you will discover by
even a brief glance at its contents, the perspective of the journal is
far from parochial. The contributors to Stone Canoe Number 1—71 in all—represent remarkable
diversity in every respect—age, level of experience, cultural background,
choice of subject matter, and point of view. Geographically, our “local”
contributors range from Albany to Buffalo, and from Binghamton to Canton.
There are writers and artists representing 11 of the region’s colleges
and universities. There are people who grew up in Syracuse, like Diana
Abu-Jaber, or those who were educated here, like Stephen Dunn and Robert
Phillips, who have gone on to forge distinguished careers elsewhere. There
are major writers like Jhumpa Lahiri and Rhina Espaillat whose brief visits
have energized our community. There are artists like Wendy Gonyea and
Tom Huff whose ancestors have lived in the region since the beginnings
of oral history. There are recent immigrants like John Bul Dau and Mario
Javier whose celebration of their heritage further enriches the lives
of their newfound neighbors. There are students from local and regional
high schools. There are artists and writers whose life circumstances have
forced them to pursue their artistic goals “on the side,”
and others who have had to fight through disabilities to make their voices
heard. Pulitzer Prize winners are positioned next to writers publishing
their first work. Our editorial strategy has been to mix all these together
in an attempt to dramatize the collective power of their artistic contribution
and to discover what new meaning their work takes on in juxtaposition.
Each voice or hand adds to the texture of our collective experience. Some of the work is directly related to local history, such as Elaine Handley’s tale of the Underground Railroad and the Erie Canal, David Hajdu’s account of the burning of comic books in Upstate towns, and Marion Wilson’s encounter with the malevolent spirit of John Jamelske. There are homages to the environment, such as Lewraine Graham’s graceful landscapes and Joseph Scheer’s remarkable moth photographs. Others range further afield, taking on subjects like racism and jazz, addiction in the family, village life in India, and the horrors of war in Viet Nam, Iraq, or Africa. There are multiple perspectives on what it means to be Native American, Jewish American, Arab American, or African American; what it means to be a son, daughter, mother, or father; what it feels like to be young, old, rejected, loved, lonely, angry, full of joy, or full of fear. Occasionally the subject matter or language may be troubling to some readers. One must remember, however, that the best artists often expose us to unfamiliar or unpleasant truths, and challenge us to confront them with new clarity.
We are grateful to the many community partners and friends in schools, colleges, and arts organizations who have connected us to deserving artists in our midst. We are also grateful for the generosity of those well-established artists whose presence in Stone Canoe lends affirmation to the efforts of their lesser-known fellow contributors.
Finally, it is important to acknowledge the generosity and dedication of the four principal editors: Michael Burkard, Daniel Torday, Johanna Keller, and David MacDonald. Without their expertise, professional contacts, and inspired collaborative work across genres, Stone Canoe No. 1 could never have been launched. Heartfelt thanks also to George Saunders, contributing editor, for his advice, support, and nurturing of new talent. Our intent is to periodically rotate editorial responsibilities, to ensure freshness of approach and to include the perspectives of people from other institutions in the region, as well as from the community at large.
One version of the Peacemaker’s story mentions the amazement of
his friends as they watch him set out on his voyage: “They had never
seen a stone float before.” One imagines he may have been somewhat
amazed himself, and relieved. This approximates the feelings of those
of us who have labored over Stone Canoe, now that the first issue
is launched. With the continued good will of the community, the financial
support of our intrepid sponsors, and some occasional help from “a
mysterious and unseen current,” we hope to keep it afloat for a
long time to come.
Bob Colley
Editor
March 2007
