I’m ending the year in the same place I began it—on my balcony, coffee cup in hand, notebook open. I don’t know about you, but even though I’m in the same place, it feels different. Sometimes change is quick and obvious, but most times I find it sneaks up on me. December certainly snuck up behind me, but here we are, at the end of another year that has witnessed our community transform. And I think it’s worth stepping back and appreciating all that has changed before we go charging into 2024. 

The most obvious change, probably, is that while my balcony isn’t any different, we as a community occupy a different table. While the familiar green banquette at Leen’s was very good to us, the move to Rush allowed us more space. I haven’t once had to climb over someone to get to the bathroom. Best of all, I can hear you better. And since so much of what our community is about is hearing one another, I’m very grateful for that. Also, the hot chocolate seems to be a hit. 

There are new faces around our new table, and I’m grateful for that, too. So many of you joined us for the first time, and have decided to stick around. At some point this year, one of you referred to me as the Patroness of First Attempts, and I’ve never been prouder of a title. It’s been one of the great joys of my life to see people come to us and, with shaking hands, decide that this is the place they want to share their work with the world for the first time. Anastasia, Ben, Derek, Dana, Joanna, Manisha, Nada, Simona, and Tamr: I’m so glad you’re here. I’m sure there’s more of you I’m forgetting—if so, it’s because you feel like such a part of things that I’ve forgotten that you weren’t always here. 

In the cyclical way of these things, the arrival of new faces means some folks have left us, too. When I arrived in Abu Dhabi, I didn’t understand what people meant when they said this was a transient place. I do now, and it hurts to have said goodbye to so many of us this year. So Shivangi, Sherif, Paul, Rohit (sometimes), and Rory—just know that we’re wildly proud of you, that we miss you, and that there’s always a seat around our table whenever you’re passing through. You’ve joined ADWC’s “global contingent”, and are now responsible for taking what’s best about this community and replicating it wherever you go. Just remember that you’re always in our hearts as you do. 

As a community, we grieved together at the loss of John McGrath—too soon by half. His ability to spin a tale that demanded your attention, and his willingness to be overjoyed about absolutely anything, live on in the fabric of this organization. More personally, his faith in me and complete belief in my talent, have buoyed me in moments of self-doubt, and has become part of the way I try to approach others. 

John would be chuffed at all the ambitious projects we took on this year, at our collective willingness to see value in our work and release it to the world. Samir put out a new EP, and surprised us all around the table last week. Ben’s off to the races on a new book, and Tala’s manuscript is coming together like a good ragout. Paul is busy lighting up the competition scene, and I’m applying for MFA programs. I don’t think I’d be speaking out of turn by saying that this community is an important launchpad for all of that art making its way into the world. 

We need it now more than ever. Because we are a group formed of people all over the world, we are uniquely impacted by world events. Even if they happen outside our borders, they are felt around our table. So much of the media and the organizations around us try to shy away from talking about Gaza and Sudan, so I’m thankful for the perspectives I’m exposed to here. I’m honored that this is a place where those stories and traditions have life. There’s a bookmark in (one of) the books on my coffee table with a cypress tree I embroidered myself because Joanna works so hard to ensure that the tatreez tradition survives. It’s a reminder of where I stopped reading, but also of the tangible impact our work has in the world because of our bravery in sharing it. 

ADWC is starting to make more waves in our community, too. We’ve been well-represented at Miza, SpotCamp at Manarat al Saadiyat, and Warehouse 421. There’s more to come in the new year, as we try to take what’s so special about this group and share it with the city that brought us together. We’ve got plans for open mic nights and more workshops and events. Folks around town are taking notice of what we’ve always known. 

In closing, I’d like to reiterate how special this thing is that we create together, week by week. I’ve had the opportunity recently to ask for recommendation letters, and that’s allowed me to see more clearly how the people I admire see me. I hope that ADWC allows you to see more clearly the beauty and power of your own work, how unique and necessary it is. 

I’m glad you’re here.

I’ll see you Sunday. 

Best,

Jamie and the Editorial Team