We are living in an age of rage. White resentment fueled the Tea Party after the election of Barack Obama, which found its inevitable outlet in the Presidential campaign of Donald Trump, whose electoral victory was secured by his ability to combine racial rhetoric with the anxieties of poor and working class white Americans. Meanwhile, economic anxiety gave rise to the Occupy movement which eventually found a national voice in the unlikely campaign of Bernie Sanders. Congress' inability to address the broken immigration system in America has resulted in three consecutive administrations executing increasingly draconian immigration policies. Nearly two decades of American wars have resulted in the rise of extreme isolationism in America and abroad. And for nearly a decade, the media has engaged in voyeurism-as-journalism when covering police brutality toward communities of color which, though it has raised the issue's national profile, it has not resulted in any significant change for the communities living under the constant threat of state sponsored violence. Overseas, rage against authoritarianism gave rise to the Arab Spring but, as dictators were toppled, they were quickly replaced by new dictators. And in Syria, the Assad regime responded to civilian protests with military force, beginning the Syrian Civil War, which is now in its seventh year and which, as I'm writing this, has claimed the lives of more than half a million people. Global inaction during the Syrian Civil War has resulted in a refugee crisis of previously unimaginable scope, a crisis that has exposed fissures within the European Union. The result has been the re-emergence of alt-right, white supremacist political groups; Britain's exit from the European Union; and the continued instability of Angela Merkel's centrist coalition in Germany. Yet, despite the Syrian Civil War's direct connection to the destabilization of both the Middle East and Europe, in 2016 more than 4,000,000 Americans voted for Gary Johnson, a Presidential candidate who answered a question about The Syrian Civil War by asking, "And what is Aleppo?" I've been thinking a lot about rage. I've been thinking a lot about how rage interacts with how we navigate the innumerable horrors our world is experiencing. And I've been thinking a lot about the role of the arts during this age of rage. There is an uncomfortable bifurcation for me, thinking about the state of the world while also thinking about the state of poetry. While the world seems to burn, poetry is thriving. And this growth, in both creativity and in audience, is coming almost entirely through the work of writers who previously were left out of the literary world: poets of color, women poets, LGBTQ poets, etc... Having found outlets for their voices, often alternative outlets, they have brought new readers to the art form. Meanwhile, oppression and discrimination continues to follow them.

THE GOLDEN AGE OF POETRY! Thanks @NUVO_net!!! pic.twitter.com/hDMtRHSZix

— Kaveh Akbar (@KavehAkbar) May 11, 2016

This is what I was thinking about when Rachel Nix connected me with Ashley M. Jones, Laura Secord, and Alina Stefanescu, who were looking for a literary journal to work with during their annual Birmingham 100 Thousand Poets for Change events. This year, they decided to use their events, a pair of readings to be held in Birmingham on September 27 and September 29, to help raise awareness (and funds) about Shut Down Etowah, an organization committed to ending the human rights abuses at the Etowah County Detention Center. In addition to the two readings, Ashley, Laura, and Alina wanted to partner with a literary journal to create a special issue with the work featured during the readings. I was, and remain, honored that they wanted Glass to be that partnering journal. Reading these poems, I continue to think about rage. I continue to think about the role of artists during this age of rage. These poems don't seek to simply record the world in which we are living. And they don't seek to just agonize over the horrors we're seeing on a daily basis. These poets go further. They engage with their subjects. They engage with their rage. And that, that ability to engage, that willingness to engage, that is a kind of hope. This, now, is what I think about when I think about rage, about the arts, about the fragility of our world. I can't stop raging as I see migrant children ripped from the arms of their parents or as I see students running away from another school shooter or as I see families choking amid a cloud of chlorine gas. I won't stop raging. But the poems in this special issue of Glass remind me that I can do more than rage. They remind me that I must do more. Yours in rage, and yours in hope, Anthony Frame

Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.