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.

Equity in Every Shelf - Why I'm Doing This

I recently moderated a panel discussion with my esteemed colleagues across Canada.   Most were academic librarians and one was a corporate librarian.  We talked about all things equity, diversity, and inclusion (EDI) and anti-racism.   One of the questions posed to us was how our journey began. 

My journey into diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) work was driven by a strong belief in the importance of representation and the need to amplify diverse voices within our institutions. I didn’t necessarily see that in my institution and my workplace – so I wanted to find like-minded individuals who also faced the same struggles as I did as a racialized librarian in a PWI "I got involved with ViMLoC because it offered a space where visible minority librarians could connect, support one another, and advocate for systemic change. I was drawn to ViMLoC’s mission to create a community that raises awareness of the unique challenges we face and celebrates our successes and contributions to the profession. Being part of this community has been incredibly meaningful—I’ve learned so much from others' journeys and insights. It’s been inspiring to see how we can push for a library field that values DEI as a fundamental pillar, not just a goal. 

 As a librarian of colour, one of the primary challenges I’ve faced is the feeling of being 'othered' within the profession. Whether in professional spaces, meetings, or even within my own library, there have been moments where my presence or perspectives were met with implicit bias or, sometimes, outright skepticism. There’s also the challenge of 'invisible labour'—being asked to speak for diversity on panels, committees, or initiatives, often without recognition or support. This expectation to serve as a spokesperson for diversity can be both exhausting and isolating. Navigating systemic barriers has been another significant challenge, such as the lack of mentorship opportunities and advancement pathways for visible minorities. These barriers can create a sense of stagnation and make it difficult to find role models who reflect my own experiences or background. 

To overcome these barriers, I’ve focused on building a strong support network, both within and outside of my institution. Being part of ViMLoC, for example, has given me a community of peers who understand these challenges and can provide advice, encouragement, and a sense of belonging. I’ve also become more intentional about advocating for myself and my career growth by seeking out mentors and allies who understand the importance of DEI and can support me in navigating institutional systems. I’ve worked to transform some of these challenges into opportunities for change by raising awareness and speaking openly about these issues in professional spaces.

Implementing Trauma-Informed Practices in Academic Libraries

I've been working on a project with my colleagues at UBC Library -- Edlyn Lim and Celia Hagey on a project proposal called, Implementing Trauma-Informed Practices in Academic Libraries: Empowering Staff to Foster Resilient and Inclusive Learning Environments, as part of a Strategic Equity & Anti-Racism Enhancement Fund (StEAR) grant application.   In our research into writing this grant, the webinar above is an excellent starting point.  

Trauma-informed librarianship in academic libraries is an emerging approach that recognizes the impact of trauma on students, staff, and faculty and aims to create supportive, empathetic environments that foster learning, engagement, and well-being. The Mesa Community College has a very good LibGuide on trauma-informed approach to services in libraries.  It's really worth a look, and a good model for libraries.   A blog entry won't be able to appropriately dive into the nuances of trauma-informed librarianship, but here are the key points of our project proposal:  

Understanding Trauma's Prevalence in Academia: College and university students often experience various stressors, including academic pressure, financial burdens, social challenges, and sometimes personal trauma, such as abuse, discrimination, or the loss of loved ones. Additionally, many students and staff may carry the weight of past traumas. Trauma-informed librarianship acknowledges these experiences and works to mitigate triggers that could exacerbate stress, anxiety, or PTSD symptoms within library spaces.

Creating Safe and Supportive Spaces: Academic libraries are often viewed as safe havens, where students can study, reflect, and engage in personal and academic growth. By implementing trauma-informed practices—such as clearly marked exits, accessible spaces, and staff trained in empathetic communication—libraries can foster environments that feel safe and supportive. This approach encourages all users, especially those with past trauma, to fully utilize library resources without feeling overwhelmed or marginalized.

Building Trust and Community: Trauma-informed practices in libraries emphasize respect, choice, and collaboration. For library staff, this means adopting a non-judgmental approach, being mindful of language and body language, and offering support with patience and care. Building these relationships creates a community of trust and understanding, helping users feel valued and respected in the library. This can lead to increased library use, participation in academic support programs, and greater overall engagement.

Improving Access and Inclusion: Trauma-informed librarianship aligns closely with inclusivity and accessibility efforts. Students from marginalized backgrounds—such as those who have experienced racism, discrimination, or other systemic injustices—are more likely to carry trauma. Academic libraries can improve access for these students by understanding and accommodating their unique needs, which might include providing quiet study areas, mental health resources, or flexible borrowing policies for students with significant life challenges.

Supporting Mental Health and Academic Success: Research shows that trauma can negatively affect concentration, memory, and learning—all of which are crucial for academic success. By adopting trauma-informed practices, libraries can indirectly support students’ mental health, which in turn supports their academic achievement. Staff who are sensitive to the signs of trauma can better assist students who may struggle with certain academic or social pressures, offering alternative ways to engage with resources and fostering a healthier, more supportive educational environment.

Of course, it goes without saying that incorporating a trauma-informed approach into academic libraries requires investment in training, policy adjustments, and a commitment to understanding and addressing the complex needs of the academic community.  This will be our main challenge -- to be able to work with the administration in rolling out these initiatives.  But this is much worth it in the long-run because the payoff is that this approach not only supports individual well-being but also strengthens the overall resilience and inclusiveness of the educational environment of the academic library.  

It's Time for Slow Productivity

“Pseudo-productivity: The use of visible activity as the primary means of approximating actual productive effort.” - Cal Newport

Knowledge workers everywhere: we are all prone to the pseudo-productivity trap. Earlier in my career, the expectations were that “work” was considered seated at your desk at 9am and stayed there pretty much until I was the last person at the office.  It was a show of dedication, of production. 

Performativity was paramount over actual production though. The research literature at the time (about a decade ago now) espoused the importance of multitasking within this “age of information.”  The work ethic of the time seemed to brazenly encourage as many social media accounts as one could push out information, constantly responding when our mobile phones beeped and dinged.  At the end of each work day, it felt like I was exhausted from overdoing even though I wouldn’t recall feeling accomplished at what I was exactly “doing.”

"Slow Productivity" proposes a more sustainable and thoughtful approach to work-life balance. Unlike the "hustle culture" or the constant pressure of traditional productivity systems that prioritize speed and efficiency, Slow Productivity encourages taking one's time to focus on fewer tasks while doing them more deeply and meaningfully.

The Slow Movement has been a cultural initiative that advocates for a reduction in the pace of modern life, and Slow Productivity builds on the idea that relentless productivity can lead to burnout, anxiety, and a sense of overwhelm. Slow Productivity suggests we should aim for long-term progress by concentrating on what really matters and spacing out tasks in a way that allows for thoughtful engagement and deep work.

Cal Newport thus highlights this approach to include:

• Focus on less: Slow Productivity encourages limiting the number of simultaneous commitments or tasks. By narrowing focus, people can give more attention to the projects that truly matter.
• Quality over quantity: The emphasis is on doing fewer things better rather than doing many things quickly. This also includes developing skills or deepening expertise over time.
• Pacing work: Instead of rushing, set realistic expectations, allowing time for creativity and rest, and understanding that meaningful work takes time to develop.
• Do Not Burnout: Not burning out will enable you to not overextend and maintain long-term motivation and energy

For librarians and knowledge workers, Slow Productivity, is a critical reminder that a more human, sustainable, and fulfilling approach to productivity that balances accomplishment with well-being, encouraging deep work without the stress of constantly being "on the clock."  Performing to look busy may have been helpful at one point in time, but as the pandemic and working-from-home experience has shown, true productivity happens away from pretending to be busy -- when real performance is looking back at your accomplishments over a period of time.