Open the page. Arrange your pens. Project your voice. Make your mark. 

Marginal is a publisher by youth, for youth. In celebrating and elevating marginalised voices we don’t just want to create a stage from which underrepresented voices can be heard and championed. We want to create tangible change, fortified by ink. 

This field guide is a map to help you navigate the ethos, mindset, passion, and drive behind everything that Marginal is and aims to do. It is a small map. Something you can slip into your pocket if ever you get lost. But it hopefully shows you the roads we have taken and the destinations we want to arrive at, and we’ve done so by showcasing the tools we’ll be using with which to get there. 

Via words and comics, this is where Marginal finds itself. And hopefully, you find yourself here too.  

I Hope The Future

I hope the future

isn’t too big for me to hold,

I hope that I have the courage

to mould it how i wish.

I hope the future

is full of books i’ve written,

in a house so busy I can’t hear myself think.

I hope I stay soft and forgiving,

I hope I start living for me.

I hope the future

waits for me to figure it out a little.

I hope I finally learn how to keep plants alive

and how to strive for my best instead of perfection.

I hope the future

is full of self reflection,

so that i never stay stagnant and boring,

I hope to be drawing only in colour.

I hope the future

doesn’t allow me to shrink myself for others anymore,

I hope I keep my door open for everyone

and my heart full of love.

I hope the future finally becomes mine,

my future for the taking,

my path for the making,

I hope the future waits for me.

The Others

The dreams of silent screams,
Is a reality for many.
Shouting into the world to be heard,
Only to be talked over

By adults who know better.
Adults who will send the letter of closure For spaces we called our own
Because the loans were too high.

The kids too ignored to try
And fight for themselves.
‘We are here to fight for you’
They say with the keys to lock the doors shut.

They say doors slam in our faces
Because they aren’t the right places for us,
Full of people who wont understand, People who wont stand up for us.

Safety is seen as a privilege,
Only the kids outside of this status
Away from this city centre radius
Will truly understand what safety is.

To be involved in progressive leadership, To be taught how to pick the locks to doors
We were told were not ours.
To know it’s not about how loud you can talk

But about what you are saying.
Knowing how to find yourself in spaces That were not designed for you,
The magic trick we had to learn.

Mainstream society wont applaud our magic tricks,
They’ll call us witches, ‘the others’ and more,
But our magic is not a tragic part of our story,
The villains are not the witches on the hill

There are no villains in our story,
Just austerity and misunderstanding, Youth services re-branding to try to remain standing in a crumbling system,

There are no villains here,
Just systems designed against us.

Passing the Baton

In comics this would be the transformative
element stumbled upon, granting superpowers
to the down-on-their-luck kid searching for strength.
Here, we hold it out – bright and heavy,
a social amulet that can patiently
push through the discord, bring levity
and flight. Soar kid, soar.
We were all passed this once ourselves. It lifted
us out, it carried us forward – saving
from whence we were saved. It’s a gift
that says We are your people
and these are your tools. Create the change,
mould the world into a shape
you recognise and deserve. Leave space
for yourself and for others. And at the end
of it all when you find yourself where we are now, pass
it along and say,

Soar kid, soar.