Editor’s Preface

Rattan Eco Sprawl © Zen Teh Shi Wei

We can return to our mothers, and their mothers,

and the mothers before that.

Lie belly-down on the sand. Let the ocean rise

to take you home. Learn to look down.

Be dense. Be brave.

Learn to breathe salt water.

—Liberty Leggett

Welcome home, reader.

In almost a blink of an eye, the journal has reached its tenth issue. It’s still hard for me to believe that I’ve been at it for five years since October 2018, back when I was in transition from a full-time teaching position to full-time graduate studies. The Tiger Moth Review was conceived during the white space that I had freed myself with, starting off as a WordPress blog site for Issue 1, before moving to a paid platform with its own unique domain since Issue 2. From the beginning, we were blessed by the kindness, generosity, faith and support of benefactors, writers, peers, submitters and readers who contributed in one way or another to the realisation of the journal, through their advice, submissions, donations, funding, readership, publicity, etc.

When I was still putting the first issue together, I never dreamed how far the journal would go. Looking back, I’m so proud and honoured to have published work from the likes of more established voices from Singapore, Asia and the rest of the world like Yeow Kai Chai, Aaron Lee, Ann Ang, Khairani Barokka, Tammy Lai-Ming Ho, Ko Ko Thett, Vinita Agrawal, Teresa Mei Chuc, Boey Kim Cheng, Lydia Kwa, Lee Maracle, Craig Santos Perez to emerging writers and artists whose works too have so much to teach us. The Tiger Moth Review has represented hundreds of writers from every continent save Antarctica, and our focus from the get-go has been to create a space for ecoconscious contributors from minority, marginalised and underrepresented groups in society. To this end, we are humbled to have been able to bring to our readers the words of contributors from less reachable places: Kunle Okesipe from Nigeria, Lucas Zulu from South Africa, Zakir Hossain Khokan from Bangladesh, Guna Moran from Assam, India, Lauren Hyunseo Cho from Seoul, South Korea, Maziar Karim from Tehran, Iran, Sheikha A. from Pakistan-UAE, Mykyta Ryzhykh from Nova Kakhovka Citу, Ukraine and Nazarii Nazarov from Kyiv, Ukraine, Anastasiya Kuruliova from Belarus, Lorraine Caputo from Equatorial Andes, Fran Fernández Arce from Santiago, Chile, and the many women migrant writers from various parts of the Philippines working in Singapore and Hong Kong.

Putting together each issue is always a joyful occasion for me. Issue 10 is a compact issue that begins with Liberty Leggett’s “Instructions for surviving the twenty-first century”, which includes learning to “breathe salt water” (6). There is a sense of honouring our ancestors and recognising the wisdom and knowledge of the communal and collective in KayLee Chie Kuehl, Andy Oram and Zen Teh’s poetry and art. Two current and former students of mine, Renee Yeap and Joseph Lee have their prose and poetry featured respectively, and this is an immensely proud moment for me as an educator. Death is a theme in this issue, as is the rebirth and reclamation of self and home. Alejandra Pena’s closing poem offers “a rebellion, a lighthouse, a map home” as we remember our fathers who parted seas and walked without shoes or sleep in search of “the promised land” (44) we now call home.

Esther Vincent Xueming

The Tiger Moth Review