Just So You Know: Essays of Experience

by Hanan Issa (Editor)

This collection is an open invitation. It is a bringing together of previously untold creative essays with no hard lines or prescriptive margins. No normative spotlights, only an open space to speak, and be heard. "I felt the city in my muscles, my saliva. I wanted to be changed. I wanted to be in love." A young woman weaves her experience of abuse into the folklore of her ancestors. A student addresses his OCD by writing letters. A Paralympic medallist reflects upon his journey into a challenging new lifestyle.

Genres: Nonfiction

180 pages, Paperback

Published December 1, 2020

Reviews

[Hannah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really interesting essays on a variety of subjects from a variety of voices, a really good, informative read to see different perspectives.

[Ewan Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

Occasionally, I hear a bird song in our garden that I don’t recognise. It’s always a memorable experience; I’m always eager to spot and identify the stranger. I felt a similar excitement when reading this remarkable collection of essays. The vibrant, passionate voices had a strangeness to them which I found hard to categorise. Yet the sixteen writers of these essays are not passing visitors; these are people who are part of our community. Parthian Books set out to create an anthology of essays from ‘marginalised voices’ and the three editors have done an excellent job. These are voices heard on their own terms; “strong voices expressing themselves devoid of the burden to explain, conform or pander to those that do not necessarily share their outlook” (editor Hanan Issa). They are powerfully individual. A Paralympian (Ricky Stevenson) affected by cerebral palsy who has suddenly started to lose matches. A bilingual Welsh-speaker (Grug Muse) who likens language to water in its vastness and dangers and life-giving properties. A writer and film-maker (Kandace Siobhan Walker) who tracks violence wreaked on unnamed women from ancient myth to present-day experience. Although the essays are short and accessible, you may need time to absorb what you read. Kate Cleaver is autistic, dyspraxic and dyslexic. In ‘Look At Me’, she describes decades of confusion and hurt before she comes to terms with who she is. “Think of the brain as a computer; a dyslexic is wired differently to others, but it can be rerouted.” I felt that these essays were doing something similar to me; rousing my brain from its comfortable, stereotypical way of thinking; pushing it back to basics, to think afresh. The voices in this collection come from those whom society has forced to the margins; because of their parentage, their way of thinking, their natural urges. All their lives, the authors have struggled to find acceptance and community. “How often are their (migrant cultures’) members allowed to be and become themselves in their entirety?” asks Ranjit Saimbi, who has quietly uncoupled himself from his Sikh background. But these are confident, authentic voices which challenge our understanding of what is normal with every sentence. And they are voices of people who, in sometimes crushing circumstances, have won through to find their way in life. “I am not mixed,” proclaims Isabel Adonis. “I am not a minority or a foreigner or an outsider or a sub-culture. I am complete.” In the introduction, editor Durre Shahwar expresses the hope that this fine anthology will encourage others at the margins to continue the conversation. “Because, just so you know, these voices exist.”

[brontë reads · Rating 5 out of 5]

I cannot coherently explain how inspiring and NECESSARY this essay collection is. Wales is often sidelined in UK media, and not just in the creative industries. It was so refreshing to read a collection of varied voices from a myriad of creatives who all connect to Wales.

If you’re reading this then I’m sure that you already know how passionate I am about inclusivity within literature and promoting that on my account. (Of course, I am still always striving to be better at this). This essay collection touches on topics such as race, religion, LGBTQ+, neurodiversity, and just identity as a whole. These are all conversations that are finally beginning to exist within British publishing. Unfortunately, this is rarely inclusive of authors with a connection to Wales. In this collection, Parthian celebrates and gives a platform to Wales.

I loved how each essay was so different in both style and substance. Some poetic, some academic, some recollections, some opinions. It was refreshing to read about topics that I, and I’m sure many of you, have a connection to, yet rarely seen that reflected in the books we pick up. My favourites included ‘Crisp’ which humorously explored the writer’s discovery of their bisexuality, ‘Look At Me’ which chronicles the writer’s taking a bike ride and learning to love themselves as a mixed-race, dyslexic, dyspraxic and autistic person, and ‘Language As Water’ that explores the link between water and bilingualism, backed up by familiar Welsh places and writings.

A few days ago I was inspired by the first chapter, written by Derwen Morfayel, to ask my Instagram followers their opinion on changing their name after marriage. Out of about 60 responses, I was surprised to learn that ⅔ of them would want to keep their name. Identity is an interesting thing and manifests itself in a multitude of ways. The perspectives in ‘Just So You Know’ will spark new thoughts and present new knowledge. ❤️🌈

Diolch Parthian am anfon y llyfr ardderchog hwn ataf i!

[beyond_blue_reads · Rating 5 out of 5]

I sometimes struggle to get through essay collections, but these had me hooked.

The fact that they were only very loosely connected, and had the scope to be 'creative' in whichever way the authors chose works in its favour. The editors were given a brief to create an anthology by marginalised and Welsh voices - terms which both come with their own complexity, baggage and potential for mis-use, and this is addressed head-on in the foreword and several of the essays.

The collection as a whole is smart, politically astute and vibrant; a perfect blend of lived experience, authenticity, Big Questions, and some welcome humour.

It was published in 2020 and quite a lot has happened since then, particularly the continued erosion of immigrant, LGBTQ and disabled rights. But for the most part, it still holds its ground in 2025, and for Welsh writing in particular, it feels essential.

[Isabel Nicholson · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a really enjoyable selections of essays. It is not what I usually read, but seeing insights into people’s feeling of belong and self was really interesting and inspiring.