2022 What will become of the children? One of the oldest, most stressful, and, perhaps, oddest questions we ask ourselves as we already know the answer: they will love and be loved, they will suffer, they will struggle, and we will struggle with them. Simultaneously, we will endure all the complications: pregnancy as unlimited potential, pregnancy as ten months of a biological parasite, children wanted but impossible to have; children, abortions, and conception as symbolism for something new and something lost. What is it about the horror of the pandemic that has made so many of us want to talk about children, caretaking, and the future? I, myself, am mired in these thoughts as I begin the delicate process of having a child while trans and in a foreign country without completely losing my marbles. Even after fifteen years in childcare and education, I still wonder when one actually feels ‘responsible enough’ to become a parent. (After all this time, it appears that I am, in fact, still Baby.) Setting the theme of this issue, Nicola I. Campbell’s commissioned poetry contemplates the ripple of generations; Leanne Betasamosake Simpson’s interview discusses dreams of the good life that is, a decolonized life of joy and wellness; Lisa LaRose’s cover art looks straight on at the death drive, while others discuss caretaking and the strange experience of giving hours, months, or years to someone else without completely losing oneself in the process. Note, this issue’s content discusses abortion, miscarriage, sex, pregnancy, and adjacent body functions and horror. Please take care of yourself as necessary. Lastly, I’m imminently grateful to Ruchika Gothoskar, Stacy Gardner, Kaiya Jacob, Monica Calderon, everyone at Room, and everyone who submitted to this issue for their support, trust, and patience. —Micah Killjoy
