Work and Bitch

The truth is I am confused about community work right now. It’s not the “work” part as much as it is the “community” part.

I realize I’ve just blogged all kinds of positive stuff about the concrete work I believe I am doing for poetry community. I’m actually quite tired from this past week’s work, though I am very glad for it.

“It’s not about you.” I try to keep this tenet in mind, as Guy LeCharles Gonzalez’s recent excellent blog post reminded me. So yes, I do try to keep this in mind, even when I am in my necessary hustle, promoting my gigs and work.

In addition to co-curating the PAWA Arkipelago readings, as you know, I am writing reviews and small press spots for API authors. I will be doing an interview style write-up with Kenji Liu, whose chapbook, You Left Without Your Shoes, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. Other indie published API authors are also in my queue.

I have asked a few emerging writers to guest blog on the PAWA blog. Specifically, Amalia Bueno and Darlene Rodrigues, both of whom I just recently met at VONA, have just submitted a write-up on their VONA experience and the atmosphere of mentors and colleagues who are writers of color. I have asked Rachelle Cruz to write about her experience in the PEN Emerging Voices program which is currently wrapping up. I have asked her also to write about the forthcoming APIA Spoken Word Summit.

Additionally, on various API and Filipino listservs geared towards artists, I’ve made it a point to forward all the artist opportunities that come my way — submissions calls, workshops, job opportunities, grants, fellowships, and residencies. I promote other API writers’ events and publication. As a young Pinay poet, there were times that I just really did not know how to find venues for my work. I never knew who was accepting submissions and when. I just didn’t know where to go to find this information. I eventually found mentors and elders who directed me towards editors and publications, basically sharing with me publication spaces that could have been theirs to hog or horde. They wrote letters of recommendation for me for graduate school and for various writers’ fellowships. They promoted and reviewed my first book when I feared it’d die from obscurity. In other words, my mentors have always practiced generosity with me, and have encouraged me to do the same. And so I try my best to do the same.

And all is well in the world. I meet all kinds of artists with whom exchanges are affirming.

Then I am jarred by some whoever who back channels a mean spirited passive aggressive email insisting I do more and in a more timely manner, or pointedly directs a nasty stare and some terrible funk my way in a public artist space. All it takes is a couple of individuals to make me second guess whether it does anyone any good at all. I wonder why I bother.

This is my for real much needed bitch session. I want to give people the benefit of the doubt, and not assume they are just jerks and assholes. I want to know what enables them to be so mean. I want to be reminded why community is worth my work and energy.