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.

"Empowering Resilience: Implementing Trauma-Informed Practices in Academic Libraries"

I'm excited to work on a project with my colleagues Edlyn Lim and Celia Hagey at the UBC Library.   Our Strategic Equity and Anti-Racism Framework (StEAR) Enhancement Fund project will help us deliver an integration of trauma-informed services at our library that can significantly enhance the support provided to students and staff, particularly in light of the increasing recognition of trauma's prevalence and its impact on learning and engagement.  Trauma-informed care (TIC) is a framework that emphasizes understanding, recognizing, and responding to the effects of trauma, which will help foster an environment of safety, trust, and empowerment for all patrons and those who work in the library. 

Academic libraries, as integral components of educational institutions, can benefit from adopting TIC principles. These principles align with the broader movement in higher education to create inclusive and supportive environments that acknowledge staff and students' diverse backgrounds and experiences. By implementing trauma-informed practices, we can create spaces that prioritize psychological safety, which is essential for those who may have experienced trauma. 

This includes training library staff to recognize the signs of trauma and to respond appropriately, thereby reducing the risk of re-traumatization during library interactions.   By introducing the 4 R's and its 6 principles of trauma-informed care, the intention is to validate diverse experiences, and ensure that library services are accessible and welcoming to all students.  Research has shown that trauma particularly affects those from historically marginalized backgrounds who have suffered from systemic racism and violence.  

Recently, I was taken aback when I came across a seemingly innocent question from a colleague, "Does trauma happen here at the Library?"   Of course, it does.  This tells me the term trauma is not well understood nor widely accepted.   When we hear of trauma, we often envisage train wrecks with bloody carnage and the aftereffects of shell shock.  Certainly, some of our patrons come from war-torn countries and have suffered much psychological trauma.  But many do not.  Trauma comes in many forms.  

Research has shown that chronic stress can also result in the same psychophysiological impact as trauma.  This is particularly important in the context of the COVID-19 pandemic, which has heightened stress in a broader sense.  The death of a loved one results in trauma.  Blatant racism and oppression over time.  Anti-Asian racism and gender-based violence during the pandemic have never really ended but evolved over time.   That causes trauma.

Implementing trauma-informed services in academic libraries is not merely a beneficial addition but a necessary evolution in how libraries engage with their communities. By recognizing the profound effects of trauma and adopting practices that promote safety, trust, and empowerment, my hope is for academic libraries to play a pivotal role in supporting students' and staff's academic and emotional well-being.