Determined for a prolific career, I forged ahead and wrote fast. Within a year I drafted a mixed-quality collection of short stories, then decided to pause that and start a contemporary thriller. All year I grappled with the relationship between my characters, the overarching thrust of the narrative, the tense and tensions that make a story good. I decided to take a break from writing for political purpose and instead just tried to entertain.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But it wasn\u2019t going well for me. I kept getting stuck.<\/p>\n
Sidnam\u2019s friends Isabelle McNeur (writer), Evee Telfar (theatre writer\/musician) Brad Aldridge (writer\/activist) Ronia Ibrahim (poet) in a graveyard near the University of Victoria. Photo: Emma Sidnam, film.<\/p>\n
In November, I read Enter Ghost by Isabella Hammad. It\u2019s a novel about a British-Palestinian theatre actress who joins an Arabic production of Hamlet in the West Bank. Sonia, the actress, struggles with her Palestinian identity, her own ignorance of the political situation, and the situation itself. Enter Ghost is brilliantly written, beautifully nuanced. It\u2019s better than anything I\u2019ve written this year or ever. It is an important book. It gave me both a clearer understanding of the war in Palestine and the grace to think once again \u2013 yes, art is important.<\/p>\n
In The English Patient, which is my favourite book of all time, Michael Ondaatje wrote \u201ca novel is a mirror walking down a road\u201d. As well as show us new points of view, one of the best things art can do is force us to interrogate ourselves, and to understand where we really come from.<\/p>\n
Representation of \u201cwhere we really come from\u201d has always been central to my argument that art has political power. There is a real value in seeing ourselves in the protagonists on screen or in books.\u00a0<\/p>\n
When I was 12, I started writing a Percy Jackson-esque adventure novel. I made my protagonist a white boy because I didn\u2019t realise that Asian girls could be protagonists. That\u2019s why movies like Everything Everywhere All At Once, The Farewell and even To All the Boys I\u2019ve Loved Before and books like Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner, and On Earth We\u2019re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong have been so meaningful to me. These movies and books made me realise that I could be the protagonist. These movies and books made me feel seen. I\u2019ve heard many accounts, like mine, of queer people and people of colour who never realised that they could be heroes, or romantic interests \u2013 simply because they never got to see that.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Some of the books that have impacted Emma Sidnam.<\/p>\n
My first novel (Backwaters) was written with the goal of creating the Asian New Zealand representation that I never had growing up. By the time I reached university, I was lucky enough to read the beautiful nonfiction books All Who Live on Islands<\/a> by Rose Lu and Small Bodies of Water<\/a> by Nina Mingya-Powles. But I wanted to see representation in fiction, my favourite medium. Backwaters<\/a> is about racial identity, family, and coming-of-age.\u00a0<\/p>\n The book has been out for over a year now, long enough for me to wonder whether my political-purpose book was worth it. What was my real impact?<\/p>\n My life hasn\u2019t changed much since publishing. Sometimes, I receive nice messages on Instagram by people telling me that they feel seen. That feels pretty amazing, especially when those\u00a0 messages come from other Asian New Zealanders, or anyone who\u2019s ever felt othered in their own country. I also get lovely messages from people who tell me that they\u2019ve learned something new about the history of Chinese people in New Zealand. It\u2019s pleasant to think that I\u2019ve helped a few people learn something. But it isn\u2019t enough for me to feel like I\u2019ve made a real difference. It often feels like all I\u2019ve done is add my own tiny voice to an already existing chorus.<\/p>\n But then, isn\u2019t it the cumulative force of many voices that creates genuine change? My own work might not have done much on its own, but it\u2019s part of a whole movement of Asian New Zealand writers. In the past 15 years, New Zealand has grown a flourishing Asian artist movement, ranging from Proud Asian Theatre to anthologies like A Clear Dawn: New Asian Voices, and Everything That Moves, Moves Through Another<\/a> which celebrates mixed-race identities.\u00a0<\/p>\n Change is usually rooted in communities, not in individuals. Not many people are capable of dedicating themselves 100% to a cause without burning out. The same goes for artists, and especially artists trying to say something political.<\/p>\n I know so many amazing artists working for their communities. One of my friends writes theatre with the goal of helping the next generation of queer kids feel seen. Two of my friends started a zine to spotlight Muslim poets and share experiences from Ramadan. Another group of friends aim to destigmatise sex work through their paintings, note filings, and community events.<\/p>\n All the artists I know struggle with burn out. There\u2019s a lot of pressure that comes with attempting to champion or represent a shared experience, and it\u2019s why artists tend to form and rely on communities. Our communities offer us inspiration, strength, and support in all forms. I am personally grateful to my community of artist friends, including those who helped form the ideas of this essay.<\/p>\nFriends Devon Webb, Ronia Ibrahim, and Emma Sidnam at the 2022 Slam National Finals (on zoom, because of Covid).<\/p>\n