"Implementing Trauma-Informed Practices in Academic Libraries: Empowering Staff to Foster Resilient and Inclusive Learning Environments" at UBC Library

Over the past year, I've been honoured to be part of Implementing Trauma-Informed Practices in Academic Libraries: Empowering Staff to Foster Resilient and Inclusive Learning Environments, a project supported by UBC Library’s Strategic Equity and Anti-Racism Framework (StEAR) Enhancement Fund. Our goal has been simple yet deeply ambitious: to reimagine the academic library as a place where staff are not only equipped to understand trauma, respond with empathy, and foster spaces that feel safe, inclusive, and genuinely supportive, but also have self-care practices to support themselves when facing or experiencing retraumatization.

The grant proposal behind this initiative seeks funding to deliver a comprehensive trauma-informed training program for library staff across UBC. This includes workshops and creating resources that introduce core principles of trauma-informed care, including safety, trust, choice, collaboration, and empowerment, to demonstrate how they translate into everyday library interactions.

Research shows that historically marginalized communities often carry disproportionate burdens of trauma, and encounters with discrimination—however subtle—can intensify stress and psychological harm. In academic libraries, where diverse users seek help, study, rest, and a sense of belonging, trauma-informed approaches are not just beneficial but essential.

A recent title that informed my work in this area is Trauma-Informed Leadership in Libraries (edited by Janet Crum and David Ketchum), which features a roster of LIS practitioners well-versed in this area. The monograph excites me because it considers an individual’s holistic life experiences, particularly the negative consequences of trauma, when determining how best to support and engage with them in the workplace from a manager's viewpoint and context.

My participation in this project has been both professionally transformative and personally grounding. Working alongside colleagues who share a commitment to equity and care has deepened my understanding of how library work intersects with human vulnerability. This initiative is more than a training program; it's a step toward reshaping campus culture, one interaction at a time, to ensure that all library users feel seen, supported, and respected.

Joyful Reading of "Chinatown Vancouver: An Illustrated History"

Reading Chinatown Vancouver: An Illustrated History by Donna Seto has been an absolute joy and revelation. From the moment I opened its pages, I felt immersed in a vivid and engaging tapestry of a community that has shaped the soul of Vancouver. The book’s vibrant illustrations bring to life a neighbourhood that is both historic and alive – and very near and dear to my heart. The historical Chinatown that I know — its narrow streets buzzing with memory, its shopfronts glowing with the warmth of people who built something enduring against the odds – brought back many fond memories for me. And to a past I have heard of but never visually experienced in a book.

I found myself lingering over the write-ups on the buildings, or searching on Google Street View, each one a small story of resilience and pride. The interviews with community members are deeply moving — their voices remind me that Chinatown isn’t just a place on a map; it’s a living archive of hope, survival, and belonging. Donna Seto’s research through archival photographs, too, offers a powerful window into the bustling heart of the community during its thriving days. I could almost imagine stepping through the doors of Cathay Importers, hearing the clatter of plates at Ho Inn Restaurant, or catching the aroma of a meal at Ho Ho.

For a librarian and historian like myself, Chinatown Vancouver: An Illustrated History isn’t just a history book. It’s a love letter to a neighbourhood that carries the weight of generations, a reminder that place connects us to our past and shapes our future. Reading it, I feel both pride and responsibility — pride in the community’s strength, and commitment to ensure its stories continue to be heard.

 

Competency Checking in the Modern Workplace

A decade ago, when I was earlier in my career, I experienced an incident that continues to follow. During a retreat, our team participated in a group activity to generate ideas about the program logic model. When it was my turn, I suggested that any initiative should have an element of autodidacticism. Expecting to build on this point or continue with the conversation, there were no comments. Instead, my boss noted I had used a “ten-dollar word,” followed by snickering amongst the group, who then moved on to break time.  

I had trouble articulating what I had experienced at the moment, but I felt demoralized. My contribution felt like a joke that didn’t resonate with the audience. Except I wasn’t joking. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first, nor the last, time I experienced such a microaggression. At its worst, I questioned my sanity in such situations. Now more than two decades into my career, I can confidently say that this is common among marginalized individuals.

Shari Dunn, an EDI consultant and author of Qualified, answers precisely what I experienced and have been puzzled by. It’s called competency checking. There are three primary ways competency checking is deployed in the modern workplace, and its roots are deeply crystallized from centuries of systemic racism. When the majority population perceives anything that threatens them, in this case, intelligence, it evokes an unconscious bias and cognitive dissonance. Competency checking illustrates three things happening:

Assumption – Manifests in low expectations, marginalization, and extreme micromanagement. Suppose someone assumes that they are intellectually inferior. In that case, they may question the individual’s qualifications more closely during an interview and, once hired, pay much more attention to their work while looking for any mistakes.

Expression - Particular surprise or unease with open displays of BIPOC intelligence, which can trigger requests or demands to confirm how it was acquired and whether it’s the result of rote memorization or actual, integrated knowledge. This can be manifested as dismissal, quizzing, argument, and tokenization.

Activation - A feeling of fear when confronted with a BIPOC person who holds any authority, especially someone in a leadership position. This manifests as requests for identification, undefined feelings of unfairness, anger, and unease.

The only way to truly deal with the impact of competency checking is to acknowledge that it is happening. It’s no wonder there is a lack of vertical career trajectory, which refers to the absence of opportunities for employees to advance to higher-level positions within an organization, often resulting in career stagnation for BIPOC individuals, and we're not just talking about libraries.  

 I’ve seen so many colleagues’ careers plateau, where an individual remains in the same role or at the same level for most of their career without significant advancement. I can certainly speak to this experience, and I can say it hurts the morale of an organization. It’s my hope that Shari Dunn’s work continues to help those who are in the ruts be more inspired that there are actions that can be taken and agency in one’s role if they feel underappreciated. We just have to look for it.

10 Years at the Helm of Ricepaper Magazine

 

This week marks a major milestone—ten years as Editor-in-Chief of Ricepaper Magazine. On Wednesday, I’ll have the honour of reflecting on a decade of storytelling, advocacy, and community-building in Asian Canadian literature.

What am I most proud of? Helping amplify voices too often left unheard. I’ve had the privilege of publishing both emerging and established Asian Canadian writers—each one reshaping the literary landscape and expanding the boundaries of what Canadian literature can be.

Back in 2016, we made the bold leap from print to digital. It wasn’t just survival—it was reinvention. That shift allowed us to embrace multimedia, reach new audiences, and publish fresh work from across the globe, including a growing wave of Southeast Asian voices who found us online and submitted their stories, often for the first time. That pivot wasn’t easy, but it gave Ricepaper a second life—and a bigger one.

As editor, I’ve helped shape some of our most potent and timely themed issues, including “Time and Space,” “Myths, Legends, and the Supernatural,” and “Re-Imagining Asian Futures”—themes that tapped into the pulse of identity, diaspora, mental health, resilience, and memory across generations. Our readers weren’t just reading—they were seeing themselves.

We are currently celebrating 30 years of Ricepaper with our latest anthology Infusions, a special collection of writing in Ricepaper Magazine that spotlights a new wave of Asian Canadian and Asian diasporic voices. Alongside that, we launched an archival project that captured the impact of the Asian Canadian Writers’ Workshop (ACWW), preserving its legacy for the future.

Mentorship and collaboration have always been at the heart of what I do—nurturing new editors, mentoring interns, and building bridges with universities, cultural organizations, and literary festivals like LiterASIAN and Word Vancouver. We’ve grown stronger together.

One of my proudest moments? Renaming the ACWW Emerging Writers Award after my friend and mentor Jim Wong-Chu, following his passing in 2017. It felt right—to honour his legacy while making space for the next generation of literary talent.

Ten years in, I still believe Ricepaper matters more than ever. We’re not just publishing stories—we’re continuing to shape the future of Asian Canadian writing.

Celebrating the The Paper Trail at LiterASIAN Writers Festival in June 2025

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When I explored the Paper Trail, a national exhibition that opened on July 1, 2023, at the Chinese Canadian Museum, I was astonished that it had taken 100 years since the passing of the Chinese Exclusion Act to properly acknowledge this dark period of our history in Canada.    I'm so pleased that for this year's LiterASIAN Festival, I invited Catherine Clement, the exhibit curator, to join us as a featured author and speaker.  Catherine is an award-winning community historian, curator, and author whose work has profoundly impacted the preservation and understanding of Chinese Canadian history. 

The Paper Trail to the 1923 Chinese Exclusion Act commemorates the centennial of a significant yet often overlooked period in Canadian history. This exhibition, which opened at the Chinese Canadian Museum in Vancouver on July 1, 2023, features the most prominent public display of early Chinese head tax and related identity documents assembled. Clement's leadership in crowdsourcing these materials from families across Canada led to the creation of The Paper Trail Collection, now housed at the University of British Columbia Library, making it the country's most comprehensive community archive.

 

Beyond The Paper Trail, Catherine has dedicated a decade to uncovering the legacy of Yucho Chow, Vancouver’s first Chinese commercial photographer. Her research culminated in the 2019 exhibition Chinatown Through a Wide Lens: The Hidden Photographs of Yucho Chow and a subsequent book, which won the 2020 B.C. Lieutenant Governor’s Medal for Historical Writing and the 2020 Vancouver Book Award.

Having Catherine Clement as a featured writer at the LiterASIAN Writers Festival is particularly exciting due to her profound impact on Asian Canadian historical narratives. Her work aligns seamlessly with this year's "Origins" theme, focusing on the roots and beginnings of Asian Canadian communities while celebrating the 30th anniversary of the Asian Canadian Writers' Workshop (ACWW).   The festival program is out, and Catherine's event, The Paper Trail to the 1923 Chinese Exclusion Act, is on June 28, at the Chinese Canadian Museum.  See you then!

Literary Festivals Preview in British Columbia

I'm grateful for the opportunity to share with audiences LiterASIAN Writers Festival, a project that I've been a part of since its inception in 2013.  When I stepped into the role of Festival Director for the LiterASIAN Writers Festival for my friend and mentor Jim Wong-Chu in 2017, I was joining something more significant than a literary event—I was entering a living, breathing community of storytellers, advocates, and cultural builders. Founded by the Asian Canadian Writers’ Workshop (ACWW), LiterASIAN has always been more than just panels and readings. It's a space where diasporic voices not only gather but resonate.

As Festival Director, I had the privilege—and the challenge—of shaping a festival that would honour its roots and reflect the complexities of the contemporary Asian Canadian voice and experience. Each year, we asked ourselves: Whose voices have we not heard yet? How can we expand the literary imagination while remaining grounded in the community that made this possible?

Curating the festival lineup is like assembling a beautifully embroidered mosaic.  I worked with emerging writers just beginning to find their voice, like Emi Sasagawa and Michelle Kim, and with seasoned authors who had paved the way through decades of literary activism, such as Fred Wah, Anosh Irani, and Joy Kogawa. Inviting intergenerational conversations across different career stages and languages, histories, and geographies is vital.  Over the past thirteen years, the festival has hosted book launches, cross-genre performances, and challenging but necessary discussions on race, mental health, identity, and the politics of publishing.

I'm proud that we continued to make space for healing through storytelling. Especially during years marked by social unrest and a pandemic that exposed—and worsened—racial inequities, LiterASIAN became a kind of sanctuary—not one that shied away from hard truths but one where people could speak them and still be met with care.

I'm appreciative that being the Festival Director was never a solitary role. I was buoyed by the tireless work of volunteers, artists, editors, and organizers—many juggled this commitment alongside day jobs, caregiving, or their own creative work.  Their dedication reminded me that literature does not live in isolation but in people, relationships, and the spaces we build together.

Now, as I look back on my time directing the festival, I carry with me not just a catalogue of events but a constellation of moments: a young writer breaking into tears after their first reading, an elder sharing stories in their mother tongue, a room full of strangers leaning in at the same time. That is the power of LiterASIAN. And I’m honoured to have helped guide its story—even for a chapter.

 

A Reflection of a Decade as an Editor

It’s been a wonderful experience as Editor of Ricepaper Magazine. It’s hard to believe, but it’s been ten years since I joined the magazine. My editorship has impacted the publication and the broader landscape of Asian Canadian literature and culture. Under my leadership, the magazine evolved from a community-based Asian Canadian literary journal into a nationally recognized literary and arts publication showcasing the voices of the Asian diaspora. My vision helped bridge generations of writers and artists, fostering emerging talent while honouring established creators.

On March 27, I will speak at the Federation of BC Writers on a panel with distinguished magazine editors. I’ve reflected on my role in the magazine industry and want to share some of the highlights of my time at the helm of Ricepaper.

To amplify diverse Asian Canadian narratives, I’ve tried expanding the magazine’s focus beyond traditional literary content. I've highlighted various artistic expressions—including film, visual arts, and performance—and given space to intersectional stories around identity, diaspora, and belonging.

I’ve also been a big proponent of the magazine’s mentorship and community-building role. Through editorial initiatives, workshops, and events, I’ve nurtured new writers and creatives, many of whom gained national attention.  My focus on mentorship helped solidify Ricepaper as a launchpad for Asian Canadian talent. I’m extremely excited about the Jim Wong-Chu Emerging Writers Award winner Jinwoo Park’s new novel The Oxford Soju Club.

As a historian and librarian, I see Ricepaper's archival and historical significance. I am honoured to play a role in documenting and preserving the evolving Asian Canadian experience, creating a cultural archive that continues to be referenced by scholars, students, and creatives.

My leadership fostered collaborations with organizations such as academic institutions, literary festivals, and universities through collaborative projects and partnerships, further embedding Ricepaper in national conversations on diversity and inclusion.

Finally, adaptation in a digital age has been a core tenet of my work.  Ricepaper also embraced digital publishing and new media, helping the magazine remain relevant in changing literary and media landscapes. We’ve continued harnessing digital technologies (social media, podcasting, video sharing) to stay relevant and shift the magazine from mainly text-based content to a multimodal media organization.