As a first-generation Canadian born to Haitian parents, Cindy uses her early experiences as a visible minority, as well as the dichotomy and realities of colourism and spirituality within her community, to inspire her storytelling and shed light on the experiences of Caribbean diaspora.
Her poetry has appeared in the Toronto Writers Collective and The Temz Review, and most recently, in Feel Ways, an anthology about Scarborough, an east-end borough of Toronto where she currently lives. She is hard at work on her debut poetry collection, Unchained Sisters.
Q: How long were you in Ottawa, and what first brought you here? What took you away?
My father is a pastor and due to the demands of his ministry, moving every few years was par for the course. We’ve lived in Montreal and a few Montreal-adjacent suburbs; Riviere-du-Loup, a small city between Quebec City and the Maritimes; Haiti, where my parents are from; and Gatineau, twice! Our family first moved to Ottawa in 1992 and I moved away to Montreal in 2000, only to move back in 2005. I left Ottawa again in 2014 after my daughter was born and have called Toronto home ever since. I’ve always preferred the vibrancy of big cities, which suits me more personally and creatively.
Q: How did you first get involved in writing, and subsequently, the writing community here?
Writing was an early love from the time I was young. From the moment I learned to read and write, it unlocked something in me and gave me the vehicle to express what I didn’t quite feel comfortable expressing vocally. I think this is true of many shy types (though I no longer consider myself as such today). But writing was also a sporadic practice over the years. Then, in 2013, I became a lifestyle blogger and discovered the Ottawa blogging community. It was a fun time, but also a lot of fluff and vanity. Even though I’d written poetry privately from time to time, I really dove into it in 2018. Since I’d already left Ottawa, I never got an opportunity to integrate its growing poetry community. I do, however, keep my ear to the ground on its evolution and love what I see coming out of it.
Q: How did being in such a community of writers shift your thinking about writing, if at all? Have there been subsequent shifts due to where you have lived since?
Since I didn’t get to be part of the community while living in Ottawa, I cannot offer any personal anecdotes on the matter. But I’ve had a couple of chats with my friend Ellen Chang-Richardson, founder of Little Birds Poetry (LBP), who’s told me of her experience hosting her editing workshops there and the insane enthusiasm these sit-down sessions have garnered in the community. This is the kind of support I live for.
As a newcomer to the Toronto literary scene, I realized quickly that this city is a different, very hungry beast, but one that doesn’t, thankfully, eat its young. I’ve found camaraderie with writers from all walks of life and some of them have shown themselves unbelievable allies and vocal supporters. I think the biggest shift I’ve observed certainly came by way of the Black Lives Matter protests last year, leading to a reckoning that was already brewing, but which had its lid blown right off regarding the lack of representation and opportunities in publishing for people of colour. As a writer who lives at the intersection of being Black, a woman and a Francophone, this is the kind of shift I’d always hoped for, but honestly didn’t think I’d get to witness in my lifetime. It’s nice to see the tide turn on these matters.
Q: What did you see happening here that you don’t see anywhere else? What did Ottawa provide, or allow?
Ottawa was the first place to make me consider the impact of my words. As a blogger, I noticed that the more invested people were in my way of expressing the most mundane of things, the more likely they were to open up about their own lives. This in turn made me a less reluctant storyteller: it became an unspoken mission to be open and vulnerable with my peers. I feel that few are willing to bare their souls in bigger cities, perhaps due to an “Eat or be eaten” function. The need to maintain the air of mystery serves, in many ways, to keep an eye on others’ progress and measure our own work against theirs. This feels reductive of the bigger picture, which in my humble opinion, is about our shared love of the written word and our desire to win over people to that world. So, whenever I feel like I’m headed toward this ego-centric way of looking at writing, I think back to who I was in Ottawa: a woman who wanted to connect with others through personal musings and found great comfort in knowing many others sought the same.
Q: Have any of your projects responded directly to your engagements here? How had the city and its community, if at all, changed the way you approached your work?
My blogging foundation from my Ottawa days did get the ball rolling on getting my writing noticed with several brands, and that interest initially followed me to Toronto. But now, I have a much more literary approach to my writing, so my interest lies in learning about the publishing industry as a whole: its players, its advocates, its detractors. I read my peers' work and sit with the beauty of their words. The talent never ceases to amaze me. For three seasons, I attended the Toronto Writers Collective's writing workshops and they were formative in getting me to embrace and trust my poetic voice more: the pressure of having to come up with something in ten minutes really put me through my paces, but I really enjoyed that process. That way of writing poetry has stayed with me and even if I go back to a piece later to tweak it, I mostly stick to the TWC approach because it pushes me to be concise with my thoughts.
Q: What are you working on now?
At the moment, I'm working on different things, although much of it is more as a coping mechanism for anxiety than anything I would consider good work. But I have been working on and off on my first poetry chapbook, Unchained Sisters. Ironically, the genesis of it was first shared at a Little Birds Poetry Toronto workshop, but which now has its home in Ottawa. It was a poem in progress inspired by the few years I spent in Haiti as a child where I witnessed my mother's special bond with her four sisters--I didn't know where I was headed with it, but the LBP writers strongly encouraged me to consider turning it into a chapbook. I credit Ottawa for being the place that allowed me to do all the necessary “growing up” I needed to do before becoming who I am. To this day, I consider that Ottawa still finds ways to remind me that although I act like its wayward daughter, it's not off to convert my bedroom just yet; I'm always welcomed back home.
