Cathy Linh Che of Kundiman
Kundiman, the national nonprofit dedicated to nurturing writers and readers of Asian American literature, celebrates its twentieth anniversary this year. The organization has provided safe community to Asian American authors through its annual retreat, online classes and workshops, readings, events, and regional networking groups across the United States. Cathy Linh Che, Kundiman’s executive director since 2016, recently discussed Kundiman’s history, the needs of its constituents, and how she intends to lead the nonprofit going forward. Che is also the author of the poetry collection Split (Alice James Books, 2014) and coauthor of An Asian American A to Z: A Children’s Guide to Our History (Haymarket Books, 2023).
Could you give us an account of your experience with Kundiman and a summary of its history?
I learned of Kundiman in 2007 during my time in the MFA program at New York University. I was an MFA candidate in poetry, and while there I met R. A. Villanueva, a poet who introduced me to Kundiman. After applying more than once, I was accepted as a poetry fellow in 2010 and returned again in 2011 and 2013. In 2012, two things happened: I won the Kundiman Poetry Prize, and I answered Kundiman’s call for a part-time communications consultant. I have been with Kundiman ever since. Kundiman has shifted internally from having an all-volunteer corps to hiring paid, full-time staff with specific roles and responsibilities to carry out its programs and mission. A core program is the annual retreat. It’s the only retreat for Asian American writers of its kind that I know of. From our earliest days, our retreat was modeled after Cave Canem, whose cofounders mentored and encouraged our cofounders, Joseph O. Legaspi and Sarah Gambito.
Has Kundiman changed since 2004?
One major change is genre. From 2004 through 2014, our retreats were only for poets. While tabling for Kundiman at AWP [the Association of Writers & Writing Programs annual conference], fiction writers would come up to me and ask about applying, and I would have to turn them down. This helped us to clarify a need still unfulfilled, so we inaugurated a pilot program—a weekend fiction intensive. Through both the magic in the room and the feedback we received, we realized this space for a fiction community was something writers really needed. So in 2015 we welcomed both poets and fiction writers to our annual retreat. We also expanded to include workshops in creative nonfiction and food writing. It was important for us to be able to nurture these writers who could speak from a culturally sensitive space. We’re also now offering online classes across genres. We had always wanted to offer online classes but weren’t sure about the best platform. Then at the beginning of the pandemic, Zoom became more widely available, and we were able to meet the needs of people who were previously without access to a supportive community.
What do you see as the immediate needs of Kundiman’s writers and readers?
People have a deep hunger to see one another in person and to gather safely around writing. Aside from our retreat and classes, we also have ten regional groups: nine across the country and one international group. They’re organized by regional chairs who plan a minimum of four events annually. These include readings, workshops, salons, even mini retreats. We’re also trying to address the opacity of book publishing. We have been providing free panels on finding an agent, working with an editor, and understanding publicity in order to demystify the process of getting a book into the world. It’s also important to note that the literary arts field is extremely underfunded. It’s a system built on scarcity and tokenism. What writers really want is the ability to live whole, fulfilling, creative lives without feeling like products. Driven by Kundiman’s core values of generosity, inclusion, and courage, how do you see the organization moving forward? There’s more work to do with other communities of color. We’re in the process of developing what I consider a “Super Friends” group, composed of organizations that serve writers of color. It’s very easy to become atomized, and while it’s amazing to be in a space meant for Asian American writers, it’s also important to be in solidarity with other communities of color. Right now we’re trying to imagine what’s possible.