Governor General’s Literary Award for Poetry winner for her book of poetry, North End Love Songs.

And now, one of us.

Meet Winnipeg’s Katherena Vermette, AU’s 2018-2019 Writer-in-Residence.

What is a Writer-in-Residence, you ask? The Writer-in-Residence is an appointed position held by an award-winning Canadian writer, who spends 60% of their year-long residency working on their own writing projects while devoting 40% of their time as a resource to AU’s writing community.  In short, while Katherena works on her latest projects, she will also be available to help us with any questions we may have about our writing and the publication process.  Lucky us!

I was able to meet up with Katherena (virtually – because that’s just how we do things at AU), and here is what she had to say about creativity, finding time to write, and the age-old AU question: what’s best – physical or electronic books?

Being a student often means long days and nights in front of a screen, struggling to come up with the right words to finally nail that essay.  I imagine life as a writer must be similar! So if you’ve hit a bit of a roadblock and it’s been a few hours since being able to come up with anything, what do you do to spark your creativity?

Hahah.  Hours, days, weeks, roadblocks can be long.  I don’t really like to plod at the laptop too long and prefer to keep my writing times comparatively short and intense.  I give myself deadlines and goals but find it’s more productive to have a good hour than a bad day.  I also like to break up all my sitting time with lots of movement and chores and the like, and find that’s the best help when I’m stuck.  I have the advantage of working at home so there’s so much to do if the ideas won’t come- laundry, dog walking, supper cooking.  Thinking happens best while doing, I think.

One of the biggest struggles for distance education students is time management.  Making and finding time is key.  What is your favourite time to write, and why?

I write in the mornings because it’s when I’m most awake (read: caffeinated).  If I have anything else to do I like to schedule it for the afternoons because my mornings are precious.  I get everyone out of the house to daycares, schools and jobs and then it’s just me and my dogs, and hopefully the words, for a while.  I have never been the kind of writer who jumps in on their lunch break or works late into the night.  I need quiet and lots of it.  I need plenty of time to write myself in and time after to get myself out and back to the life stuff.

AU has been moving towards electronic textbooks instead of print for many of their courses (which may or may not be a source of contention for some).  What do you prefer: audiobooks, physical books, or e-books? Why?

I like anything with print- e or paper.  I do love good old-fashioned paper books especially old ones well-worn and magically found but also have been known to have one or two going on my phone as well.  I can’t do audio books though.  I know they are great but I retain nothing audibly – I need to see it.

What do you hope to accomplish during your residency at AU? Can you tell us a little bit about your graphic novel, as well?

This year I am trying to work on some new poetry, but likely some fiction will sneak in there too.  I am also writing #3 of the graphic novel series right now.  The series is A Girl Called Echo about a modern-day young person who slips back in time and experiences key moments in Metis History.  Right now, Echo is at Batoche during the Northwest Resistance of 1885.  So, pretty exciting stuff for this history nerd.

If you could tell your “younger writing self” anything, what would it be?

Ah, I like this question.  Oh, my poor younger writing self!  Gosh, she would love me.  She’d be so relieved or maybe just surprised that we were able to accomplish much of anything.  The first thing I would tell her is to believe in herself, just a little, just try.  Believe you can do it, believe you are worth it, believe in the process.  I’d also probably try and get her up in front of that microphone a bit sooner, because it took me ’til I was 26 to read anything to anybody.  Knowing my incredibly stubborn younger self, that conversation probably wouldn’t go my way, but I would try.

Last, but not least, what is your favourite word and why?

Right now, my baby is learning words so the tiniest details of the smallest of words are pure joy.  She just picked up “hi!” I never loved that word more!

Welcome to AU and we hope you enjoy your stay here, Katherena!

Katherena is honoured to pay it forward and help aspiring authors like you and can be reached at writerinres.athabasca@gmail.com.

Interested in submitting your work for critique? Visit http://writer-in-residence.athabascau.ca/submission/index.php for more information.

Photo by Katalin Karolyi

The power of one moment, one word.

The moment: Easter Monday, 1978.  The moment Margot Van Sluytman’s father was murdered while attempting to stop an armed robbery.

The word: sawbonna.  A Zulu greeting that translates to “I see you”.  To see our shared humanity, the goodness in one another, our fragility.  The way Van Sluytman now sees her father’s murderer.

After the tragic loss of her father, and an attempt to join him, Van Sluytman turned to the therapeutic power of words, using poetry and writing to free herself from behind her invisible bars.  Finding her niche, she went on to launch a publishing company, Palabras Press, published several books, and accepted an award from the National Association for Poetry Therapy for her work.

It was around this time when Van Sluytman and her father’s murderer, released from prison as a transformed man dedicated to rehabilitation work within his community, began to share words, eventually stumbling into moments.  Moments that transform sawbonna from a simple word into a living framework in which to view humanity even after the most devastating of nightmares.

Today, Van Sluytman’s life work is dedicated to The Sawbonna Project: transforming the culture of justice through the shared healing of both victim and offender, through respect, responsibility, and relationship.  She accomplishes this by not just talking the talk—she walks the walk, right alongside her father’s murderer.  Together, they speak about restorative justice at schools and in jails.  Together, they are the shared voice of reconciliation.  Of restoration.  Of sawbonna.

And now this moment: AU has awarded Van Sluytman, an MA-IS graduate, with the 2018 Distinguished Alumni Award: a formal recognition of the honour and prestige that her notable contributions to humanity brings to the University.

Margot has generously accepted my request for an email interview, where she discusses her serendipitous path to AU, her reaction to winning the Award, and how AU has fit into her overall vision.

What brought you to choose AU to pursue your MA-IS, especially over a brick and mortar university?

I chose AU because for years I had been looking for a Graduate Program that spoke to my pressing yearning for a program that would be interdisciplinary and inclusive of “mature” students.  I also wanted my studies and research to be done via distance education where I could run my publishing press, continue to offer my courses and talks about Therapeutic Writing and Social Justice around the world, and be able to study within my schedule.  I could study anywhere, not curtailed by the time-zones.  My in-depth research about AU proved inspiring.  MA-IS underscored for me that it was “bricks and mortar” of the very essence of quality, commitment, and support to its students.   A truly precious story that made me know beyond the shadow of a doubt that AU was for me, was a powerfully auspicious meeting that happened in Portland, Oregon, in April 2007.  I was there to present a workshop and to receive an award from The National Association for Poetry Therapy, for my Therapeutic Writing Courses and Publication, Dance With Your Healing: Tears Let Me Begin to Speak.  The then President, Dr. Perie Longo, introduced me to Dr. Reinekke Lengelle.  Dr. Lengelle and I were the only Canadians (both from Alberta at that time) at that conference of several hundred people from around the Globe.  Our work with and for and because of Therapeutic Writing and how it permits “voice” and “agency”, was a poignantly shared-passion.  When I told her about my desire to engage in Graduate Studies, she told me about AU.  She is one of the gifted and committed professors at AU with whom I eventually studied.

In your master’s thesis, you had mentioned your belief in being the change you wished to see in the world.  It is beautiful to see someone act toward this belief as you do.  How do you feel that AU has helped you in the journey towards being the change?

Three names among a rich and inspiring list stand out for me when I think of the most potent mentors in my AU journey.  Dr. Paul Nonnekes, Dr. Dale Dewhurst, Dr. Carolyn Redl.  My first teacher was Dr. Nonnekes.  By class three, I was ready to “quit.” The reason was that I was over-whelmed with excitement.  I commented on everything, often my linking my comments and responses to sawbonna.  Other students challenged me about this, asking why I always told “my” story.  Rather than respect and treasure their voices, I felt scared, threatened, embarrassed.  Paul said to me, “I will be disappointed in you if you quit.” Why did this matter to me? It mattered because what Paul knew and what he taught us, was that learning is about being challenged, is about asking and being asked abundant questions, and learning how to respond with and from and because of the intellect of the heart—the heart of the intellect.  His cancer diagnosis during our course left me and my classmates deeply, deeply saddened.  His death was a blow to his students and colleagues.  His wisdom of, “Do not quit.  Honour the gift that education is,” ie. discourses of all manner, will stay with me as another treasure from AU.  Drs. Dewhurst and Redl, my co-thesis supervisors remain the very light at the tunnel of my commitment to sawbonna.  Carolyn supported and trained me in the use of my research methodology: autoethnography.  She compelled me to write with vigour, with vision, with courage, with precision, and with focus, so that this methodology, one that is as yet challenged, will be seen for the academic rigour that is insisted upon—a rigour that demands clarity and that stands shoulder-to-shoulder with all others.

The one time we met in Edmonton, Dale’s words, “You have stumbled upon a new justice theory with sawbonna,” were, and are, the very essence of my daily life’s compulsion for, and commitment to, affect change in Canada’s justice policy.  Dale’s encouragement to me to write a thesis that would do what I wanted it to do, that which it is still doing, “Affect the heart of the intellect of those in political power,” compelled me to write, write, write, re-write, re-write, re-write, so that I could hone in on the foundational essence of sawbonna.  His other words to me, “Use the word sawbonna everywhere.” I do.

How can we, as distance education students from around the world and from different perspectives of life (including those that study at AU while incarcerated) incorporate sawbonna into our lives?

Sawbonna means shared-humanity.  The simple phrase, “I see you.” To incorporate it in all that we do is to be present to our very self first, so that we come to know our voice of love, which is the essential voice of justice.  In those moments during my studies, when I was feeling “out of my league,” “useless,” “too, too tired,” or “unworthy” of even putting pen to paper, I reminded myself that sawbonna starts from my heart of kindness with myself and works outward from there.  That each student knows they matter, is vital.  Even as AU is not the tradition of “bricks and mortar,” it is the traditional act of teaching and learning that attests to exquisite learning, whereby the intellect of the heart infuses a desire to thrive.  And, AU is the non-traditional of courage in the very act of making exquisite learning available around the Globe.  Students and professors are always near.  Sawbonna is about relationship.  AU is about relationship.  We are seen.  We matter.

What was your reaction when you learned you’ll be receiving the 2018 Distinguished Alumni Award?

Tears.  Awe.  Gratitude.  I was in the car with my brother, Jeremy, who was visiting from overseas.  The phone rang and he pulled over and asked, “What’s up, Marg?” I suspect on my face he saw an expression of, “What? Me? No way!” The reason for this, now that I have had time to digest, is the fact that from the time my Dad, Theodore, was murdered, when I was a girl of 16, to now, a woman of 56, I have been walking a tight-rope dance of creating and finding meaning.  My one constant has been reading, writing, research, and curiosity about how learning, how education can be a force for change, for “meaning-making.” Discovering AU was as if discovering a vein of pure gold.  My seeming severed vocal cords found a way to voice again.  AU has twice-blessed me.

What advice can you give to aspiring future alumni?

Always remember, particularly in those moments when you feel too, too tired, incapable, unworthy, that you are the very voice of hope, justice, freedom, and creative-fire that the learning at AU inspires you savour.  “Don’t quit!” Sawbonna!

I, for one, hold my head up a little higher as an AU student, honoured to be alongside someone as strong and admirable as Margot Van Sluytman.
Congratulations, Margot!

[This article generated a lot of buzz when it was first released at the beginning of October, so it’s no surprise that students picked it for the Best of edition.  A solid interview and a compelling story, of course it’s here.]

Photo by Katalin Karolyi

The power of one moment, one word.

The moment: Easter Monday, 1978.  The moment Margot Van Sluytman’s father was murdered while attempting to stop an armed robbery.

The word: sawbonna.  A Zulu greeting that translates to “I see you”.  To see our shared humanity, the goodness in one another, our fragility.  The way Van Sluytman now sees her father’s murderer.

After the tragic loss of her father, and an attempt to join him, Van Sluytman turned to the therapeutic power of words, using poetry and writing to free herself from behind her invisible bars.  Finding her niche, she went on to launch a publishing company, Palabras Press, published several books, and accepted an award from the National Association for Poetry Therapy for her work.

It was around this time when Van Sluytman and her father’s murderer, released from prison as a transformed man dedicated to rehabilitation work within his community, began to share words, eventually stumbling into moments.  Moments that transform sawbonna from a simple word into a living framework in which to view humanity even after the most devastating of nightmares.

Today, Van Sluytman’s life work is dedicated to The Sawbonna Project: transforming the culture of justice through the shared healing of both victim and offender, through respect, responsibility, and relationship.  She accomplishes this by not just talking the talk—she walks the walk, right alongside her father’s murderer.  Together, they speak about restorative justice at schools and in jails.  Together, they are the shared voice of reconciliation.  Of restoration.  Of sawbonna.

And now this moment: AU has awarded Van Sluytman, an MA-IS graduate, with the 2018 Distinguished Alumni Award: a formal recognition of the honour and prestige that her notable contributions to humanity brings to the University.

Margot has generously accepted my request for an email interview, where she discusses her serendipitous path to AU, her reaction to winning the Award, and how AU has fit into her overall vision.

What brought you to choose AU to pursue your MA-IS, especially over a brick and mortar university?

I chose AU because for years I had been looking for a Graduate Program that spoke to my pressing yearning for a program that would be interdisciplinary and inclusive of “mature” students.  I also wanted my studies and research to be done via distance education where I could run my publishing press, continue to offer my courses and talks about Therapeutic Writing and Social Justice around the world, and be able to study within my schedule.  I could study anywhere, not curtailed by the time-zones.  My in-depth research about AU proved inspiring.  MA-IS underscored for me that it was “bricks and mortar” of the very essence of quality, commitment, and support to its students.   A truly precious story that made me know beyond the shadow of a doubt that AU was for me, was a powerfully auspicious meeting that happened in Portland, Oregon, in April 2007.  I was there to present a workshop and to receive an award from The National Association for Poetry Therapy, for my Therapeutic Writing Courses and Publication, Dance With Your Healing: Tears Let Me Begin to Speak.  The then President, Dr. Perie Longo, introduced me to Dr. Reinekke Lengelle.  Dr. Lengelle and I were the only Canadians (both from Alberta at that time) at that conference of several hundred people from around the Globe.  Our work with and for and because of Therapeutic Writing and how it permits “voice” and “agency”, was a poignantly shared-passion.  When I told her about my desire to engage in Graduate Studies, she told me about AU.  She is one of the gifted and committed professors at AU with whom I eventually studied.

In your master’s thesis, you had mentioned your belief in being the change you wished to see in the world.  It is beautiful to see someone act toward this belief as you do.  How do you feel that AU has helped you in the journey towards being the change?

Three names among a rich and inspiring list stand out for me when I think of the most potent mentors in my AU journey.  Dr. Paul Nonnekes, Dr. Dale Dewhurst, Dr. Carolyn Redl.  My first teacher was Dr. Nonnekes.  By class three, I was ready to “quit.” The reason was that I was over-whelmed with excitement.  I commented on everything, often my linking my comments and responses to sawbonna.  Other students challenged me about this, asking why I always told “my” story.  Rather than respect and treasure their voices, I felt scared, threatened, embarrassed.  Paul said to me, “I will be disappointed in you if you quit.” Why did this matter to me? It mattered because what Paul knew and what he taught us, was that learning is about being challenged, is about asking and being asked abundant questions, and learning how to respond with and from and because of the intellect of the heart—the heart of the intellect.  His cancer diagnosis during our course left me and my classmates deeply, deeply saddened.  His death was a blow to his students and colleagues.  His wisdom of, “Do not quit.  Honour the gift that education is,” ie. discourses of all manner, will stay with me as another treasure from AU.  Drs. Dewhurst and Redl, my co-thesis supervisors remain the very light at the tunnel of my commitment to sawbonna.  Carolyn supported and trained me in the use of my research methodology: autoethnography.  She compelled me to write with vigour, with vision, with courage, with precision, and with focus, so that this methodology, one that is as yet challenged, will be seen for the academic rigour that is insisted upon—a rigour that demands clarity and that stands shoulder-to-shoulder with all others.

The one time we met in Edmonton, Dale’s words, “You have stumbled upon a new justice theory with sawbonna,” were, and are, the very essence of my daily life’s compulsion for, and commitment to, affect change in Canada’s justice policy.  Dale’s encouragement to me to write a thesis that would do what I wanted it to do, that which it is still doing, “Affect the heart of the intellect of those in political power,” compelled me to write, write, write, re-write, re-write, re-write, so that I could hone in on the foundational essence of sawbonna.  His other words to me, “Use the word sawbonna everywhere.” I do.

How can we, as distance education students from around the world and from different perspectives of life (including those that study at AU while incarcerated) incorporate sawbonna into our lives?

Sawbonna means shared-humanity.  The simple phrase, “I see you.” To incorporate it in all that we do is to be present to our very self first, so that we come to know our voice of love, which is the essential voice of justice.  In those moments during my studies, when I was feeling “out of my league,” “useless,” “too, too tired,” or “unworthy” of even putting pen to paper, I reminded myself that sawbonna starts from my heart of kindness with myself and works outward from there.  That each student knows they matter, is vital.  Even as AU is not the tradition of “bricks and mortar,” it is the traditional act of teaching and learning that attests to exquisite learning, whereby the intellect of the heart infuses a desire to thrive.  And, AU is the non-traditional of courage in the very act of making exquisite learning available around the Globe.  Students and professors are always near.  Sawbonna is about relationship.  AU is about relationship.  We are seen.  We matter.

What was your reaction when you learned you’ll be receiving the 2018 Distinguished Alumni Award?

Tears.  Awe.  Gratitude.  I was in the car with my brother, Jeremy, who was visiting from overseas.  The phone rang and he pulled over and asked, “What’s up, Marg?” I suspect on my face he saw an expression of, “What? Me? No way!” The reason for this, now that I have had time to digest, is the fact that from the time my Dad, Theodore, was murdered, when I was a girl of 16, to now, a woman of 56, I have been walking a tight-rope dance of creating and finding meaning.  My one constant has been reading, writing, research, and curiosity about how learning, how education can be a force for change, for “meaning-making.” Discovering AU was as if discovering a vein of pure gold.  My seeming severed vocal cords found a way to voice again.  AU has twice-blessed me.

What advice can you give to aspiring future alumni?

Always remember, particularly in those moments when you feel too, too tired, incapable, unworthy, that you are the very voice of hope, justice, freedom, and creative-fire that the learning at AU inspires you savour.  “Don’t quit!” Sawbonna!

I, for one, hold my head up a little higher as an AU student, honoured to be alongside someone as strong and admirable as Margot Van Sluytman.
Congratulations, Margot!

E-texts (short for electronic textbooks) are the 21st century of textbooks: digital, downloadable versions of printed, hardcopy textbooks.  The shift toward e-texts was announced in 2002 as part of AU’s commitment to become “a fully online university”, and, so far, e-texts have saturated 24% of undergrad courses: 177 courses out of a total of 730, to be exact (yes, I counted).

Publishers market e-texts as costing 40% to 50% less than a printed textbook, saving trees, and providing an interactive learning experience that printed textbooks simply cannot, such as search and note-taking functions, and easy access to embedded media.  Students, on the other hand, have expressed frustration with e-texts, complaining about the lack of choice and the loss of resale value.  While there are options to buy a hardcopy directly from the publisher or print the entire e-text, these are both at extra cost to the student.

But I am not here to discuss the merits for or against the usage of e-texts (for which there are many).  I am here because, after 18 (!) years of distance education studies, I am faced with a brand-new undertaking:

I am about to embark on my very first e-text course.

So, now what?

I peer toward my 10+ year old laptop, currently collecting dust in the corner and unable to hold a charge.  Not reliable.  I turn towards the iMac in my living room, well…  at least that’s what I called the room before my toddler declared it a playroom.  Stuck studying in a playroom? Not effective.  Last, I look down at my beloved smartphone and suddenly my eyes feel strained.

Did I just kink my neck?

E-texts are designed to be viewed on electronic devices such as a computer, laptop, tablet, or smartphone.  Am I technologically ready for this? Should I invest in a laptop, or a tablet? Do I sit in front of my iMac for hours on end, or strain my eyes on my smartphone? Feeling a bit lost on this newly digitized campus, I posed the question to my fellow students:

What do you prefer reading your e-texts on?

34 AU students responded to my plea, and the results are in: while many respondents said that a laptop or PC was necessary for typing assignments, an overwhelming 61% said they prefer reading e-texts on a tablet.  While screen size and difficulties with typing were discussed, the overall convenience of a tablet had won them over, plus it’s said to be the next best thing to holding a book.

With that, it looks like I’ll be checking out the Apple on Campus Program or putting my Amazon Prime Student membership to good use soon!

And for the record, I have tested my e-text on both my PC and smartphone, and I quite like the ability to take notes directly from the e-text and print out compiled notes when I’m done, which makes for a fantastic time-saving study aid.

Bring on the e-text!