Plenty of stories remain untold. 

While it’s a simple notion, it’s something that may be considered ridiculous in this day and age. The younger generations have matured simultaneously alongside the world wide web, a world that my peers and I have grown accustomed to, if not uncomfortably familiar with. 

At first glance, it appears that our modern world contains an abundance of stories — some may even say too many. It is remarkably easy to open your mobile device, pick any one of those flashy applications that stimulate the senses, and be swiftly engulfed by a tidal wave of perspectives, opinions, and beliefs. 

Plenty of untold stories? How can that be true?

While we now live in an era that advertises the digital liberation of speech, this meteoric rise in the accessibility of information has coincided with the monopolization of content. Countless voices, whether they reach us or not, are now governed and moderated by media establishments operated by only a select few individuals.

It’s a history storytellers are keenly familiar with, as the Pulitzers and Hearsts of the world will always hand off the baton to a Musk or an Ellison, albeit now on a global scale across every medium where consumable information is offered.

With this imposing goliath of industry looming over those who seek to voice their concerns and perspectives, it may seem daunting to the people who hope to add some sort of personal truth to the world that spins around them. Especially for those truths that go against what the powers that be decree “truth” to mean.

There is only so much one can do before a storytelling voice is no longer independent, before it is co-opted or stifled by the dominance of a media empire that can easily trample the challenge of any one group or individual.

I can admit that this is all very grandiose, but it’s in part why something like this — a physical magazine independently written, assembled, and printed — is more important than ever. 

I believe there is something sacred about being able to publish a magazine of this kind. I feel that in our time, the American youth will soon discover that the modern digestion of information is not just limited by the bandwidth of their psyche, but also by the bandwidth of their devices — devices they will realise they barely control.

It has never been more important to highlight and uplift viewpoints that haven’t just been lost among the millions of voices flying across networks, but have also been suppressed and stifled under the labels of “unconventional” or “radical.”

These ideas, and this resistance towards suppression, contributed in part to the creation of this semester’s Beacon magazine. In this issue, we hoped to platform voices that instill hope and provoke empathy, that challenge what is considered conventional, and question the values contemporary society holds so dear — as well as spotlight the truths it would rather ignore.

This magazine is thoughtfully filled with earnest explorations of public art, authentic romance, familial discourse, medical transparency, political strife, and personal identity. These dissections of life are conducted and performed with a scalpel aimed at the apparently controversial and the bitingly relevant.

Each of the contributors who have generously provided their work this semester brought their unorthodox experiences, their poignant observations, and their challenging opinions to this magazine. They have assisted in demonstrating the importance of highlighting viewpoints that are frequently stifled, whether by political institutions, social norms, or emotional guardrails.

ILLICIT exists as a call to action. An alarm to the artists, mediamakers, journalists, and storytellers who seek to express what they witness as unadulterated truth, who inevitably hope to strike a chord of recognition and awareness in those who may be pacified by the weighty blanket of suppression and subjugation.

I have learned during my time at Emerson College that expression is, in fact, necessary for evolution. It’s been a privilege guiding these thoughtful expressions towards a place where they can help us move forward.

With much sincerity,

Max Ardrey