2023 Submissions

‘Pockets of Joy’ is a zine that showcases the many ways young people can (and do) experience joy, and how they de-stress and look after themselves holistically. Featuring mini interviews, graphics, nature photography and mental health tips, there is something for everyone to appreciate and learn.

Explore the many different facets of multicultural societies, including how we treat each other based on perceived differences, and different cultural approaches to disability.

Although we appear to be enjoying ourselves with our friends, the reality is that we feel completely invisible and are struggling with deep emotional pain. Despite others perceiving us as living the dream life, we feel unknown and misunderstood. We hide our tears, put on a brave face, and pretend that everything is okay, but inside we are drained by the pain. The smiles and laughter we share with others only mask the true extent of our suffering.

An honest, raw, and personal reflection on growing up, living with invisible disabilities, and overcoming adversity to live life on your own terms.

Hello I’m Jessica,
I am someone who has been diagnosed with a few invisible disabilities. I was diagnosed at the age of 3 with Expressive language disorder, Auditory processing disorder & Developmental delay. The person who diagnosed me, said they didn't want to label me as autistic as it wasn’t known in females and told my parents that I may not develop any more than a 13-year-old, that I may not drive and may never walk or talk.

Growing up I always struggled, I didn't know I was disabled until I was older. I believe so because I may not have understood what being disabled really meant until I was older. I remember feeling like my friends were “trained like robots” that were “programmed” to like me. I struggled with school and was always taken to other schools as a “guinea pig” so teachers could learn about how I learn, to better their understanding and teaching of others with similar disabilities. I was receiving aide support from kinder to year 2 or 3 when suddenly my teacher’s aide had a heart attack, and my support was stopped. No other aides took over and teachers tried to help me but ended up stopping. I remember being taught to read one day but stopped the next, they never leveled me up in the book levels and this would mean that I would struggle the rest of primary school. I repeated year 4 and it was the second year of year 4 when I found out that I really wasn't like the other children and that's when I really glued to the idea that everyone was told to like me and this made me pretty depressed, I never saw it coming and my focus turned more on friendships than learning.

High school was even harder. I had an assessment which would show the school whether I could do with a teacher’s aide to help me, but I was over the cutoff by two points this meant that I would then struggle through high school too. I didn't help my mother either because I did not know how much help I needed so I refused to try again or advocate for myself to push for an aide out of the fear of judgment from other students. I did not understand that an aide would have helped me go further in school. I would end up getting help from my best friend's aide which I could only use when she was free and not working with my best friends. I got bullied in school by someone I also bullied back not realizing my own actions which turned into depression and anxiety disorder and later bpd borderline personality disorder. I also became aware of the trauma I was experiencing at home and on top of that I was placed on a medication that would make a depressed teen to be angry at everything. I was still able to graduate, and I also had a certificate II in hospitality for which I was very passionate about.

After high school we found medication that would make me, me again. I decided that I'd have a break from education and continue to work (my parents had encouraged me to work from the age of 16 and I listened because that meant I could earn my own money, which was my encouragement). Halfway through the year I got bored with just working and ended up joining a course my mum was doing, which was adult education an equivalent to year 12. I had graduated so didn't need to do it, but it helped give me something to do this lead into meeting other disabled persons who introduced me into self-advocacy for the disabled.

The teacher introduced me to a traineeship which I signed up for and used that to further my education and basically self-teach the skills I needed to learn in school, and I ended up finding a liking for studying and learning, which was about time I did want to actually learn.

I got my license at the age of 19 and I still work. I believe I have developed more than a 13-year-old mentally the diagnosis does not define me. I am a woman, who has taught herself to get to where I am today. I own a car, I read novels and love them, I went from hating study to loving to study, I volunteer for SES, I manage my own finances and budget and I now support other people with disabilities. I have my own opinions and beliefs, I am a Christian and I have a positive life and positive future, more than what the doctor said I would.

I believe that we shouldn’t be judged by the diagnosis we receive, just because I have a disability doesn't mean I am the disability, I can achieve more than what doctors say I can if I work that bit harder. The diagnosis just shows that I have these issues that I may just need more time to do things, but I will get there in the end, nothing can stop beautiful unique people like we all are.

I hope this story inspires others and parents who have struggled the same, have children with similar diagnosis or have been diagnosed and don't know where to go next. The diagnosis just helps with getting the right support (education and financial), but it shouldn’t define who you are, how you live life or who your child is and how they live. We can achieve so much more than that.

I also want to encourage parents that yes please help your child by finding out the difficulties as this diagnosis does help get more help, but that we can achieve much more than what the diagnosis diagnosed and has attached to us. I want to encourage parents to learn about disability and to find out how to help their child have a great life, to learn how to push the right amount and to know that you will make mistakes, but we will love you anyways and know that you know your child the best. My mother ended up taking a course in disability to learn how to help me, she has always advocated for me to get all the help she could to help me, yes my school time wasn't the best but I couldn’t be any happier where I am. I have matured and become a positive empowered women that had life hard, but I wouldn't of wanted it easy because it has pushed me the right amount to turn my disability into ability.

A short film that expresses the debilitating effects of academic burnout. It highlights the importance of keeping a healthy work-life balance in a powerful, artistic way, and articulates the effects that not doing so can have on one’s self.

This content piece is intended to explore the main reasons behind food wastage, as well as reflect on the fact that no one is immune to the problems that food wastage causes.

Day 1:

I find myself gripped by a sombre realization, acutely aware of the grotesque extravagance and heedless disregard that plagues our society. Food wastage, very much avoidable, yet one of the most prevalent issues of our times.

Day 10:

The depths of this issue become more apparent with each passing day. My eyes are pried open to witness the sheer magnitude of our collective indulgence. Supermarkets, restaurants, and households alike perpetuate this wasteful saga, casting aside sustenance with wanton abandon. It is a nauseating sight, and it gnaws at the recesses of my soul.

Day 20:

I have taken to volunteering at a local shelter, providing meagre sustenance to the destitute. The faces of the hungry, the downtrodden, and the forsaken etch themselves into the fabric of my being. How many of these souls could be spared their plight if only we embraced a modicum of responsibility towards our nourishment?

Day 30:

My research reveals a chilling revelation about food expiration dates. They are but a sinister charade, engineered to maximize profits while perpetuating the cycle of waste. I refuse to be a pawn in this elaborate game, discarding perfectly viable sustenance based on arbitrary figures.

Day 40:

A serendipitous encounter with a scavenger opened my eyes to the clandestine world of salvaging discarded sustenance. Together, we tread through dimly lit alleyways, rifling through rancid receptacles emitting an offensive stench. My spirit falters as I bear witness to the abundance of untouched, edible nourishment callously discarded. It is a damning testament to our society's skewed priorities.

Day 50:

Today, I ventured into the heart of the culinary elite, infiltrating an opulent banquet that catered to the hedonistic whims of the privileged few. I bore witness to their unrestrained feasting, their gluttonous revelry in the most exquisite delicacies from across the globe. Plates stacked with uneaten morsels were swiftly consigned to oblivion, a testament to their indifference to the suffering beyond their gilded realm. Their fear of missing out on trying different foods was showing when they placed their orders, and yet, lacked the perseverance to finish their food.

Day 60:

The weight of our wastefulness has settled heavily upon my conscience. Today, as I ventured into the heart of the city, I witnessed a disheartening scene of abundance gone awry. Restaurants and markets overflowed with delectable offerings, enticing us with their colourful displays and tantalizing aromas. But beneath the surface of this culinary paradise, a dark underbelly revealed itself—the discarded remnants of our insatiable appetites.

Day 70:

Today, I found solace in the company of kindred spirits, individuals who share my fervent desire for change. We gathered in a small community centre, united by our determination to combat food wastage. Our discussions delved deep into the root causes of this pervasive issue—consumerism, misguided notions of perfection, and a culture that places convenience above all else.

Day 80:

The battle against food wastage demands unwavering fortitude. I have encountered hostility from those who profit from this heartless cycle. My efforts have been met with resistance, threats, and attempts to muzzle the truth. Yet, I shall not be silenced. I shall continue to expose the corruption, regardless of the perils that lie ahead.

Day 90:

Today, as I address the congregation of activists, a sombre realization takes hold of me. We are not exempt from the consuming nature that fuels this rampant food wastage. Our insatiable desires, our insidious cravings, have played a significant role in perpetuating this cycle of excess and neglect. We must confront the uncomfortable truth that lies within ourselves, acknowledging our own contribution to this disheartening state of affairs.

Day 100:

In the culmination of this arduous journey, I stand before a mirror, gazing into the reflection of a flawed and consuming being. I recognize the shadows that lurk within me, the insatiable desires that threaten to tip the delicate balance between sustenance and wastefulness. This journey has been a transformative one, revealing the profound connection between our own voracious appetites and the vast mountains of discarded nourishment.

With newfound humility and self-awareness, I vow to tread a different path, one of conscious consumption and reverence for the sustenance bestowed upon us. I pledge to advocate for change, not only in the systems that perpetuate food wastage but also within ourselves, as we learn to temper our desires and embrace the responsibility that accompanies our privilege.

May this journal stand as a testament to the grave consequences of our thoughtless actions.