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**Please submit by:** February 14, 2025
This year, Mergoat Magazine will expand on Vol. 1 Issue 2: Blue Hollers in the Shadow of the Holocene which introduced our collective perspective on the theme of ecological grief. In the first issue, we aim to develop a complex understanding of ecological catastrophes and to understand the legacy of trauma our communities and ecosystems are left with in their wake.
In the fall of 2024, just over 100 days ago, it became clear that our work on ecological grief was not complete, when catastrophe visited Southern Appalachia once again—just 2 years after floods brought despair to Eastern Kentucky. These storms represent only two recent examples in a long line of catastrophic events throughout our region caused by extractive industry and anthropogenic climate change. The suffering caused by both storms remains. This past weekend, we learned that FEMA hotel vouchers expired as a harsh winter storm hit our region. The catastrophe continues.
In the early weeks of this crisis, an old lesson was promptly reiterated: the government lacks both the interest and infrastructure needed to ensure the safety of our communities during catastrophic events. In the immediate aftermath, community-based first responders and mutual aid efforts saved and sustained lives, as the slow mechanisms of insufficient governmental infrastructure were activated.
Once these mechanisms did begin their work, our worst anticipations were proven correct: some lives would be spared or supported in one way or another, and others forgotten. Among the forgotten, many were poor, rural, disabled, Black and Brown, queer, addicted, unhoused, and otherwise marginalized folks.
The ecological and human toll of this storm is still unraveling. It may be years before we truly grasp what devastation Helene brought to Southern Appalachia. Mutual aid groups continue leading the charge in serving vulnerable communities, many of whom are located in rural or remote areas.
The insidious—or not—reality of catastrophe is that the wound far outlives the initial, acute crisis. The trauma of catastrophe is complex, with far-reaching consequences for housing, physical health, mental and emotional health, and environmental balance. Like any form of trauma, the initial disaster lives on in the minds and bodies of the human and non-human world alike.
In this issue, we make an effort to understand the conceptual complexity that lies behind the term "catastrophe," and to continue processing the collective grief, trauma, and chaos imposed on our region by these forces. We look to broadly assess the environmental toll Helene took on our watersheds and woodlands. We also seek to account for and celebrate the people-powered recovery and broad networks of mutual aid that have worked tirelessly to protect our people after Helene.
We are seeking writers, scientists, poets, storytellers, photographers, and artists to document and synthesize the ecological, emotional, and economic outcomes as well as the personal experiences wrought by Hurricane Helene. More generally, we seek to understand the true dimensions and contours of the ecological catastrophes that have become the new normal in the age of anthropogenic climate change.