Anthems of Hope: An Interview with QTPOC Art Activist Amir Rabiyah Nia: How you identify?

Amir: Being hella mixed: Arab, Native (Cherokee), Irish, Spanish, German, Scottish, queer/trans/genderqueer, disabled, low-income, though I come from a mixed-class background, poet. Nia: What do you do for a living? Amir: Im disabled, so I rely on a variety of resources to get by. Some help from community, state assistance, family, some independent contracting teaching gigs. Its quite hard living with severe pain and illness, and being mostly home-bound to make ends meet. Nia: Do you see yourself an artist? Amir: Yes.

Nia: What kind of art do you do? Amir: I write poetry, non-fiction, and some fiction. Nia: Do you consider your work political? Amir: Yes. Nia: In what way? Amir: Im interested in writing from my own margins, in how different identities blur, press up against each other, cross other, run parallel. Ive written a lot about war, since my family fled that, lived through it, inter-generational trauma. I write about being mixed race, disability, class, gender and sexuality. I write about the silences, silence as survival and as suppression. I also write about resilience because it takes a whole lot to survive in this world that is trying to erase you or misrepresent you. So I try and write about the beauty I see in myself too, and in my communities. Sometimes I write things that have a range of emotions, other times little anthems of hope. Nia: Do you feel that higher education has helped you in your career as an artist? Amir: Yes, in the sense that I got to develop a more fine-tuned skill in writing and editing. No, in the sense that there was a lot of drama, and uninterrupted oppression that went on in those classrooms that were exhausting. And student loans, seriously not worth it. Nia: Where do consider yourself in your career as an artist? Amir: I consider myself an emerging artist. Ive shared my work publicly quite a bit, and had my work published in anthologies. But I havent published a book yet. Plus, I like the word emerging because it allows room for growth, and I want to always be growing and challenging myself as an artist and writer and human being. Nia: What has your journey to this point in your career been like? Amir: Im thankful that I have survived, that Im alive. This journey to be where I am today hasnt been easy. For me, my art is deeply connected to my growth and transformation as a person. So there have been times where I wasnt writing stuff down on the page, I couldnt write, either I was blocked or it was too painful, but things were being birthed inside of me. I think that the connections Ive made with writers of color have given me the strength to go on, to keep writing. Places like VONA, Voices of Our Nations, a writing residency for writers of color really changed my life. People were accepting of me not only as a mixed person of color but also being queer and trans. It was one of the first times I felt that. Without those moments of acceptance, I think Id have just given up on writing and publishing my work. I would have just thought it was impossible. So I guess my journey has been both hard and beautiful. I went through so many years in Oregon in isolation, feeling so out of place. Once I left, I found more support. Im thankful for the spaces that have nurtured me, and told me you can do this, as well as challenged me to go deeper, and to be vulnerable. In a way, I also know that those years of isolation have made me truly appreciate the spaces where I can be whole. When you dont have a place that you can be yourself, and then its given to you, its a shock, but an amazing feeling. Its why I started teaching my own writing workshops hoping I can create spaces for queer and trans writers, where they can feel supported. Nia: Where do you want to go from here? Amir: I want to publish collections of poetry. Im working on a few manuscripts right now. Im also co editing an anthology called Writing the Walls Down wit h Helen Klonaris and Im really excited about that. Id like to continue to do community-based workshops when I can, and also some low-residency teaching. I enjoy teaching creative writing, and the low-residency format would give me the opportunity to work from

home, and travel a little bit. I really want to feel more financially stable, and be able to sustain myself with doing what I love, while also taking care of my health. Nia: Do you worry that you may face identity-based challenges in getting to where you want to go? Amir: Yes, although the worry is different than it used to be. I think about seven years ago, after moving to the Bay, I was still recovering from living in Portland, Oregon. It was really difficult living in a city that was not culturally diverse, and that I felt a great deal of hostility from just existing. On one hand, it made me not take for granted the opportunities that I did get to connect with other queer and trans people of color trying to create change with their art. On the other hand, I had internalized so much shame, and so many messages that I could not exist as a whole person, with all of my identities in relationship to my art. I thought that it would be impossible. Now that Ive experienced rejection, hardship but also su pport and affirmation, Ive realized that positive things can come out of identity-based challenges. For instance, sharing a piece of writing that is raw and vulnerable and really connecting with people, sometimes people that I would not have expected. Those moments keep me pushing forward, and worrying less about those challenges. Nia: How do you measure your success as an artist? Amir: Thats been a difficult and tricky issue for me. Being disabled, I cant go out and work, or promote or push myself in the way that folks who arent disabled can. I see a lot of folks talking about all the things they did in a day, and all the back to back gigs, and projects, and production. I struggle because I have to create and work in a totally different way. I struggle to not compare myself to folks who arent sick, to capitalist models of success. These days Im writing a lot from bed, sometimes I use talk to text technology. I try to measure myself as an artist by what did I learn today, what moved me, what transformed me. It takes me a long time to craft a poem that I feel is ready to send out into the world. I move slow. My work is accepting myself as I am. Im always running into those voices and narratives that tell me I should have a steady job, should be producing more. But many of those ideas dont serve me, because Im sick. My success is that after all Ive been through, Im still trying towards thriving to heal my body and trauma, I mean doing some intense work, that kind of scraping at the bottom of the floor work, I see that as success. I say all of this, because I cannot separate all of that work with myself as an artist, because it all shows up on the page. Nia: Do you feel supported as an artist here in the Bay? Amir: Yes and no. There are ways in which Ive felt really held here in the Bay, especially when I first moved here. There are more shows and spaces that are QTPOC-centered here in the Bay than in Portland, Oregon. And that has been exciting to be a part of. But as my illnesses have progressed, I ve felt less supported here in the Bay because I cant go out a whole lot, or work much outside of the house. I think that so many people are really busy here in the Bay, making ends meet. As someone who is an artist, but also disabled, Im finding it ha rd to get the support I need because even in QTPOC community ableism and classism gets in the way. I cant keep up with the pace of life here, so Ive created my own pace and way of being. But the result of that, is some isolation from community. Nia: What do you think it would take for more artists to be able to make a living off of their creative labor? Amir: In order for artists to be able to make a living off their creative labor, I think that there needs to be a radical shift in what mainstream society views our work. Capitalism is very product focused, and much less process oriented. This makes it difficult for artists to make a living, because process is a huge part of creating. It could take weeks, months or years to create a body of work. I think the living in the United States and being raised primarily by Arab immigrants, who were very focused on making it or the perception of making it, that really influenced me. For a long time I felt lik e I had shamed my family in not being able to make it. Even though I have chronic health issues, and am disabled, I still push up against my own internalized ableism.

Unless we totally get rid of capitalism, which doesnt seem possible at this moment, we first have to shift or at least engage with the messages we have internalized living in the United States as queer and trans artists of color. We have to remind ourselves and each other of our worth, and the necessity of our voices and art as cultural work and resistance. Once we start doing that, I think we have to keep supporting each other in getting funding whether applying for grants, or grassroots community fundraising, or creating our own organizations, or holding regular events. There are lots of possibilities. I think that in the arts world in the United States there is often so much competition, to the point that it is unhealthy. Its often about who got this over who. While I think a small amount of competition is okay, it is exhausting, and it is actually not sustainable. Winning $1,000 in a writing contest once isnt enough. How can we work together as queer and trans artists of color to build? We need to build. Imagine if we really had a strong network. While I want mainstream society to change, and there to be more funding in the arts, I also dont want to wait around for the government to decide our voices are worthy. We are worthy now, we have bills to pay now. We have art to share now. Amir Rabiyah is a queer and two-spirit writer currently living in Oakland, California. Amir has been published in Mizna, Left Turn Magazine, Gender Outlaws: The Next Generation, Collective Brightness: LGBTIQ Poets on Faith, Religion and Spirituality, Troubling the Line: Trans and Gender Queer Poetry and Poetics and more. Amir is currently working on a collection of poetry about mixed identities, disability, survival, and rebellion.