Personal Narratives of Place and Displacement: Day Two

It’s been a long day, a good day, and I’m tired, but a few thoughts as promised about day two of the Mennonite/s Writing VIII conference. Beginning from the end.

The conference re-located from the University of Winnipeg to Canadian Mennonite University across the city this evening for what was billed as a “Creative Evening.” That is, we listened to five writers of varying ages and genres as well as a pair of musicians: Jennifer Sears, Len Neufeldt (his writing read by Robert Martens), Jessica Penner, Casey Plett, Maurice Mierau and Carol Ann Weaver on piano with Marnie Enns singing. Although not all these artists are young or entirely new to Mennonite Lit, in the main they are newer voices gaining strength and recognition among us, and it was a delight to hear them. Continue reading

Words will be wanted

I was so ready for this. For this weekend. A festival of women writers called “Growing Room,” put on by the ROOM journal collective.

I’ve been happy in our move, I can certainly count the ways I like Tsawwassen, but I was unusually excited about the opportunity to be in the middle of writers again. Never mind that I wouldn’t know anyone. Or would have to plan and plot my getting there on a map. I was reading at the launch of ROOM’s latest issue (below) on Saturday evening, since it contains a creative non-fiction piece of mine (“Notes Toward an Autobiography”). Why not spend the day at panels and workshops? Why not spend the next day too? Just to hear the familiar vocabulary of writers’ talk. Just to hear them read, even complain, about their work.

Why not indeed? And a rich two days they were. A highlight: a panel on writing about trauma with Evelyn Lau, Christine Lowther, and Sonnet L’Abbe. Another: a panel on “rewriting the stories we tell about our bodies” with Lorna Crozier, Francine Cunningham, Nilofar Shidmehr, and Juliane Okot Bitek. Continue reading

In praise of my sisters

A few words in praise of my sisters, two in particular, who have recently given me a great gift.

At first I was the only girl child among brothers, four of them by the time I was eight. The longed-for sister arrived at last, followed by two more. The girls were cute and lively and I loved them. Because of the years between us, however, they were not the sisterly confidantes I’d wished for. They were more likely to be getting into my precious things. I learned later that they weren’t always thrilled with me either, especially when I bossed them as if I were their extra mother. We all grew up, however, the differences in age collapsed, and we’ve enjoyed warm relations as peers. We added four sisters-in-law as well, all of us bonded within a shared extended family.

And now, an unexpected gift. The two sisters who live near one another in Saskatchewan approached my husband and me last spring with the suggestion that we move our 93-year-old mother from her nursing home in Winnipeg to a nursing home in Saskatchewan where one of them works. It was their turn, they said. It would be a privilege, they said. Continue reading