ABOUT THE PORCH

The Porch is a community of people hungry for a hopeful vision of the world that has something to offer everyday life, tired of the social media grind, and want to connect more deeply with creative ideas and community. We sense the authenticity of spirituality, and the possibility of friendship across diversity; and we seek to use whatever gifts and privileges we have to serve the common good, and in the places where we experience lack, to seek solidarity and support.

Inspired by magazines like The Wittenberg Door, Third Way, and The Sun; transformative leaders like Harriet Tubman, Walter Wink, and Rebecca Solnit; and creative visionaries like Jim Henson, Josephine Baker, Mary Oliver, and Seamus Heaney, The Porch invites anyone who wants to step into a better story to come along with us for the ride.  You can read our newest essays for free below. We invite you to join the community and support our work - click here for more information. If you’d like to know more about what we think and are hoping for in the world, read on below.

THE PORCH VISION

Welcome to The Porch, a gathering place to share slow conversations about beautiful and difficult things. We believe in the power of transformative storytelling, which seeks to move beyond the dynamic of "us versus them"; the myth of redemptive violence; and both the belief that either there's nothing we can do to change things, and that we have to save the world almost entirely on our own.

We publish stories in many forms: nonfiction (both explanatory and exploratory essays and creative nonfiction), poetry, reviews, videos, music, visual art, and occasionally fiction. If you want to know if you’ll find a home as a reader, listener, or conversation partner on The Porch, or if you’re interested in sharing your work with us, we invite you to consider:

Place. A porch is a place between home and the outside world. It’s where our inner sanctuary meets the community beyond our front door. A porch is an intersection of wide longings and rooted histories, family and neighbor, the private and the public. Porch stories look both inward and outward, and carefully tend to what emerges when we engage our neighbors (and the wider world), broadening our sense of what it means to belong, what it means to contemplate, and what it might mean to act in service of the common good.

We imagine this porch with sturdy wooden planks, plenty of rocking chairs, and enough space to hold generations of wisdom—even if our elders divulge a political opinion we don’t agree with or the kids challenge us to rethink our traditions (or vice versa). Respecting one another as we gather starts with practicing the belief that all of us are worthy of profound dignity and are called to creatively contribute to the tapestry of life, in the belief that we are loved, and everybody else is too - but knowing that that belief must be practiced.

Slow Conversations. We’re partial to the slow media movement in the midst of our current digital age. Good ideas often need time to simmer, and meaningful work that is thoughtfully discerned, well-designed or constructed, and ethically-produced is worth creating at a turtle’s pace. We’re not here to receive and churn out “content.” There’s room for both responsive and proactive approaches to political and cultural events in slow media, allowing for this wisdom to guide our engagement: the best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better. We’re here to embrace the numinous, recognizing there is no sacred-secular divide. Whether your traditions, experiences and callings lead you to believe that humans are made in the image of God, or that we are made of stardust, or both, we want to pay attention to what follows, and have a good, long chat about it, together.

Beautiful and difficult things. Porch stories don’t shy away from the immensity of the world’s difficulties. Sometimes, it’s appropriate to respond to situations with gentleness and ease, and other times it’s appropriate to respond with ferocity; the trick is to discern the difference between gentleness and passivity, ferocity and violence. Our stories also draw upon the force and power of beauty as nourishment. To recognize the breadth of the world’s astonishing beauty–in beings human and other-than-human–fuels our responses of both compassion and ferocity when faced with suffering. 

As we navigate these complexities, some of us find solace, liberation, and community in the language of spirit or specific faith traditions. We seek to avoid assuming or implying that readers are all members of the same (or any) religious group. So, for instance, we use words like “God” only in the context of describing something that can’t be described any other way. We welcome using such language as a way to connect us all to fierce, active, gentle, receptive, transcendent Love. Many of us in The Porch community have been forged by the experience of conflict transformation, dialogue across lines of difference, and some of us with active peacemaking in situations of violence. We don’t shy away from the hardest realities, but we know that the stories we tell about them can liberate or imprison; and we’re not shy about saying that Love, one of the most overused and under-theorized words, is a verb for grown-ups.

Boundaries. Porches are agreeable places, but they aren’t endless - they have edges that you can fall off. The Porch has always sought the edge: benevolence sometimes feels gentle, and sometimes compassion and wisdom require a kind of forcefulness from which we might otherwise recoil. But it’s possible to prioritize nonviolence and hold strong protective boundaries, and to be broad-shouldered in the exploration of the common (and cosmic) good.

Transformative Storytelling

The Porch Magazine shares transformative stories in a slow conversation about beautiful and difficult things. 

By transformative stories we mean those that seek to move beyond "us versus them"; the myth of redemptive violence; and both the belief that either there's nothing we can do to change things, or that we have to save the world almost entirely on our own.

The stories we share come in many forms—non-fiction and personal essays; poetry and art; reviews and interviews—that point beyond the self and to themes we see connecting us to the world. 

We take both responsive and proactive approaches to political and cultural events, allowing this wisdom to guide our engagement: the best criticism of the bad is the practice of the better. While we don’t sugarcoat harm or acts of violence, we seek to imagine and amplify the better story, reminding ourselves that sometimes our memories–both private and collectively held– hold the key to shifting the narrative arc.

If you’d like to write for The Porch, please read about The Order of the Rocking Chair at www.theporchcommunity.net/order.

The Porch magazine and community is made up of people like this: 

Someone who… 

… is hungry for a hopeful vision of the world that also has something to offer everyday life…

.. is tired of the social media grind, and wants to connect at a deeper level with ideas and like-minded people…

…senses the difference between authentic spirituality or community and religious or political institutions, the unity of “sacred” and “secular”, the duty of privilege, and the possibility of friendship between “high” and “popular” culture…

…likes to read, to share conversation about meaningful things, to laugh, dance and celebrate…

…understands and enjoys the fact that a healthy human can love the Muppets and abstract novels, classical music and hip hop, political activism and gift exchange economies, Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell, Beyoncé, backpacking, sustainable agriculture, jigsaw puzzles, Rumi and Twister, all at the same time… In other words, “high” and “low” may types of art and conversation matter less than “authentic” and “open”…

Someone like you?

In order to expand the circle and welcome folk to The Porch, we want to use language that is welcoming and clear. We seek to avoid using “insider jargon,” especially terminology that implies readers are all members of the same (or any) religious group. So, for instance, we use words like “God” only in the context of describing something that can’t be described any other way, seeking to avoid the implication that Porch readers are all religious believers. In short, if we don’t understand what the word means, or if it conveys the idea that readers are members of the same religious group as the writer (and “God” may be the best example of such a word), we look for a more inviting way to write it.

What We Write

We typically publish creative nonfiction, personal essays, poetry, and reviews of films, books, and music on a twice weekly schedule via our newsletter on Substack.

Our stories can range anywhere from 750 - 5,000 words.

Do We Pay?

Yes! We pay our writers based on the budget available from subscription revenue. It’s not much, but we do the best we can, and fees for articles will increase along with subscription revenue. (We don’t accept any paid advertising on the site.)

Submission Guidelines 

Changes are afoot at The Porch, and we are not currently actively seeking unsolicited proposals. But if you have an idea, feel free to pitch us here, in 150 words or less, letting us know what you’d like to do and why you’re the person to do it. We’ll read all the proposals, and remain open to possibilities… If you’re new to writing for The Porch, please include a link for two samples of your writing in the body of your email.

We’ll respond to proposals we wish to take further as soon as we can – if you don’t hear from us please know that in all cases we send you all good wishes in the spirit of a better story.