“I was at a zine fair once and I heard someone say, 'Ugh, I don't want to sit in the Asian corner.' I was like, What? Okay. I'm gonna make a whole event that IS the Asian Corner.”

This anecdote certainly reflects the spirit of Toronto's First Asian Zine Fair, which took place at the Tranzac on November 19 2017. This story was told by Chu Nap, one of the founders of WAYF (Where Are You From Collective), along with Rain, who both organized this lovely and necessary event.

The fair took place from 12-5pm, and the whole time the Tranzac was overflowing with people, buzzing with energy, laughter, conversation, and excitement. The place was packed with Asian-identified writers, illustrators, activists, crafters, and lovers of all things DIY. There were musical performances, stand-up comedy, tarot readers and astrologers (I myself had the privilege of doing astrology readings at this event). And of course, there were lots and lots of rad, awesome Asian folks selling their rad, awesome zines. Topics of zines ranged from experiences with mental health, sex and sexuality, queer and trans identity, migration, home, family, food, belonging, building QTPOC* community in the suburbs, battling oppression, healing from trauma, visioning for the future, and a host of other thought-provoking themes.

Being part of this event reminded me of when I first arrived to Tkaronto/Toronto 12 years ago – the first community space I stumbled across was Asian Arts Freedom School (AAFS). With a similar mandate, AAFS was designed to be a place dedicated for Asian-identified folks (it later expanded to include all non-white identified) to write together, dream together, learn our histories and tell our stories on our own terms. This Asian Zine Fair joins a long and strong legacy in this city of people of colour art-making, space-making, and path-blazing.

Why is it still so important for us to be creating “Asian Corner Events” in this day and age? As much as (some of us) may like to believe, we are not beyond anti-Asian racism in this city (or anywhere, really). We are not beyond the impacts of learning racist versions of our histories in our education, if we learned about Asian history at all. We haven't yet figured out how to heal from the trauma our ancestors and families went through, the ways that taught us to be fearful or judgemental of ourselves and each other, because we still want to love each other better. There are still not enough avenues or structures of support for Asian folks who live doubly (or triply, quadruply...) on the margins...queer and trans folk, women, femmes and non-binary folks, young people, elders, people who live with disabilities, mental health struggles, in suburban or rural areas, poor folks, and so on. We're not yet over the ways that we have throughout history been pitted against other people of colour, especially Black and Indigenous communities; how we've been taught to use the privilege we have to climb ladders on top of people, because we are committed to building solidarity and friendships instead. We still need more – way, way, more – Asian Corners to figure out our shit, have dialogue with one another, to empower ourselves, untangle our voices, be confident in our purpose, dream of and create a liberated collective future.

A zine fair that centres Asian voices and stories is so much more than just a zine fair. Zines are a beautiful, inventive, radical tool that many of us use to express ourselves, learn from each other, take risks, build connection and put ourselves out there. Especially if we don't have the money, social capital, or opportunity to be printed by a big publisher. Especially given how steeped in racism, classism, misogyny, ableism and homophobia our publishing and arts industries unfortunately still are. It's hard to be published when you're Asian, as usually only a few token Asian voices get published every year. Zines are a way for so many
more of us to take up space and share our voices. It's a way for us to fuck up hierarchies that exist in the literary/art world, and at the same time deeply listen to what we each have to say.

It was super fun for me to do astrology readings at this event – my line up was full and I didn't get a break the whole time, which is exactly how I like it. It was a pleasure to give some insight from the stars to a chunk of young Asian dreamers, and contribute to an event that is invested in creating inspiration, motivation, conversation, and healing for our communities. I hope that the organizers are able to make a regular event out of this; to continue to build and make space from a vision that is timely and necessary.
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*QTPOC = Queer, Trans, People of Colour

On a rainy October evening, a group of 12 or so bright-eyed Asian Canadians sat in a cozy space and talked about Asian stereotypes. We were aware that this was not necessarily everyone’s favourite way of spending a Thursday night, but it felt like important work. It ended up feeling much like group therapy, in a way that was different from talking to our family about gossip or food (although food traditions were mentioned in the discussions). In two-and- a-half hours, from the model minority myth to interracial and intra-racial divide, we touched on the everyday inner thoughts we had been so afraid to bring up with our friends
and family.

One of the discussions that stood out was the concept of a “F.O.B.” and how in many parts of the Greater Toronto Area it is possible to go about one’s day without speaking a word of English. One participant expressed their disdain at how FOBs (short for Fresh Off the Boat) don’t integrate with mainstream culture. We unraveled this by looking at how it is very difficult for those starting out in Canada to interact socially with their peers when they do not speak English, and how in Canada it is possible to speak one’s own language on a daily basis. This
is what makes our country free. Still, for many participants that evening and a lot of (Asian) Canadians it is difficult to reconcile this difference when so many Asian Canadians try to integrate into the community. It is a difficult topic that Asian Canadians contend with and it certainly brought a lot of fury into the discussion that night.

I felt personally connected to this as I consider myself quite white-washed while my sibling is what you would consider more “fobby”. It’s a difficult subject and I thought it was really well- handled while munching on Hong-kong style buns (the way to an Asian person’s heart is through the stomach! Or something).

In terms of solidarity, we concluded that Asians generally are discriminatory against other groups in the pan-Asian identity spectrum. Asian-Canadians are unsupportive of fellow Asians in a group of Canadians as well. Tokenism – the idea that there is usually one Asian in a group of Canadians – divides us and does not allow for role models.

Aside from critical discussions on Asian-Canadian culture, there were moments that brought us together as well. We all connected at discussing the straight-forward mannerisms of Asian-Canadians, agreeing that our culture is on a different system than Anglo-Saxon values altogether. This is why Western values are so foreign to our parents, and still to us.

I couldn’t help but feel as though I was in a room full of my new-found cousins. I felt safe, and grateful for this beautiful rainy evening. Even though laughing through issues would not make problems and personal strifes go away, they were supported. I realized that evening that peer support is essential to self-help, self-care and mental health, and I wanted to incorporate more of this into my life.

We ended the discussion by highlighting an Asian stereotype we are most proud of, and among extra-curriculars, high academic achievement, and filial piety, there were participants who confessed that their lives have been built upon conquering such stereotypes as being soft-spoken. It was an emotional closing exercise as we realized that we have more work to do in order to feel in touch with being Asian and Asian-Canadian.

Prior to attending the zine workshop, I was working at a dead end job that
burnt me out. I was in a rut because I didn't believe in myself creatively.

Attending the zine workshop was an incredibly positive experience. It provided a safe space to learn new mediums and connect with other artists who shared a similar cultural background - a rare treat. For me, the workshop illuminated the importance of community - I missed discussing the kind of ideas and concepts that only artists have the ability to explore.

I felt invigorated after the workshop. I came up with an idea for my own zine. Despite working at a job I hated, the opportunity to be creative got me through the day.

The workshop helped me realize that I still have the drive to pursue my passions. Zines are a super accesible medium (unlike film) that anyone can create even if they are at an economic or social disadvantage.

Attending the workshop played a major role in where I am now as an artist. It reignited my passion for art. Bonus: I met lots of great friends that I still keep in touch with today.

​Heyishi Zhang was motivated to try stand up after seeing a white classmate at an open mic and thinking "I can do better than him." Her set is inspired by: Drew Monson mytoecold on Youtube, meme artist @scariest_bug_ever, and Bad Things in life that require you to use humour as a coping mechanism. Catch her on the flip side through her short films Gay Mean Girls (+3 mil. views on Youtube), and Joy.