Every day at the beginning of class, one of my students walks to the front of the room to share an obscure fact she’s learned about bugs or animals. When she approaches me, I’m often in the middle of responding to an email, taking attendance, or talking to another student. Admittedly, she always waits for my attention, and sometimes when I hear myself say hello, my rushed acknowledgment is as predictable as her showing up at my desk. The other day, she approached me as usual. “Hey, you know something?” She asked. “Bees don’t have lungs. They breathe through the walls in their head, and sometimes their legs.”
Dictionaries define a paradigm shift as a change that happens when the usual way of thinking about or doing something is replaced by a new or different way. In science, it’s the shift away from believing Earth is at the center of the cosmos, or Einstein’s conclusion that objects don’t just exert a force, but move in relation to their own mass, distorting the space they occupy to bring something closer. In business, it’s rebranding as a way of drawing in a new demographic, or the biggest companies in the world embracing a work-from-home model. In music, it’s the first time you hear “You might say I’m a dreamer / but I’m not the only one,” and are instantly unified. In relationships, it’s the moment you realize you are no longer your mother’s child, but instead filling a parental role that sneaks up on you with time and age and overpowers you in a moment; or maybe the simple, passing instant of a smile or joke that, for some reason, gives you permission to make room for the person beside you. In our everyday lives, it’s an abrupt, unexpected fact from a teenager about the anatomy of bees.
The pieces in this issue explore what it is about these moments or shifts that make room for what is new and transformative. They explore the openness and vulnerability that sets a foundation for what has previously not been acknowledged or understood. They explore abrupt realizations that sometimes hit hard, or sometimes slide in quietly, but nonetheless change us. We hope these pieces help you be attentive in the smaller moments when you think you are perhaps too busy to listen or see what is in front of you. We hope they inspire you to pay attention, and perhaps to learn a new way of seeing something or someone that’s always been there.
With warmth,
Hannah Newman & Jesse Ewing-Frable
Sweet Tree Review