Twice now, I’ve had the privilege and challenge of introducing an edition of Jeopardy to the world. I’ll do my best to be brief as nothing in this prelude can convey the quality, the variety, the depth, and the resonance of the pieces within. A great deal of care went into bringing them to you, and I know a greater deal more went into their creation.
This time last year I confronted a blank document and struggled to express the value of the art and writing between the pages of Jeopardy 56; to convince a stranger on the street why they should continue beyond my little letter. In my classes we had discussed how writing requires vulnerability, to place a piece of yourself on the page, unarmored. And for this, I thank our contributors. But it is easy to overlook that reading, too, requires vulnerability. To engage with creative work is to allow ourselves to feel, to open up to experiences other than our own, and to entrust our belief in the truth of a story. How could I ask our readers to shed their armor at a time when the hits just kept coming?
Once again, I find myself in this dilemma.
As much stock as I put in the power of words, there is nothing I can say here to soften the many blows of the past year. We have experienced tragedy on a scale that the mind struggles to comprehend, from Covid deaths to ongoing state violence against communities of color to white-supremacy-driven hate crimes targeting Asian-Americans. This magazine does not have definitive answers. It cannot tell you how to live with this grief. I'm sorry.
But if you are still with me after that admission, I would ask that you take a look inside anyway. The contents of Jeopardy 57 are worth the risk. There are not definitive answers, but you’ll likely find familiar questions. You may find company in your doubt, in your anger, in your sorrow. And while joy cannot always lessen grief, it can exist despite and alongside it. There is joy in these pages too, celebrations of love, gratitude, and wonder. Maybe, like me, you will take heart in this messy juxtaposition and feel hopeful.
An annual publication, we are unique in our ability to capture “a moment in time, in place, in collective spirit,” as our mission statement says. I have called the 57th edition a snapshot and a time capsule, but most of all, I would like it to be a window. If it is a window, there is a light in it, left burning for you. And if your armor is feeling especially heavy, perhaps you will step inside and rest a moment.
Linnea Boice
Editor-in-Chief, Jeopardy Magazine