Celebrating ten years of Matwaala by director Pramila Venkateswaran
When Usha and I casually discussed about getting a few South Asian poets together to share their poetry in her living room in Austin, I thought it would be a one-time get together. But that desire to invite a few friends to her home ballooned into a three-day poetry festival in Austin, with a variety of venues, and a slate of brilliant poets, plus a poet-of honor. It was so grand and intimate that it galvanized us into repeating the festival in 2017, and year after year in New York, each iteration different from the one before it.
Looking back, I cannot believe the number of grants we were able to piece together to pay honoraria to our poets, from Poets and Writers to university grants, get press coverage in newspapers and magazines, and columns in elite American, Global and Indian poetry magazines. Matwaala is truly the example of what activists call “the power of one.”
Here, we were two women, Usha and me.
We had family obligations, worked full time, wrote, published and were now shepherding a collective of South Asian poets. We were clear in our mission of bringing visibility to South Asian poets and have them be seen as part of American poetry. Matwaala was and is history in the making, the history of American poetry, as multifarious, variegated, braided with its immigrant stories.
On any given day, if I was not helping one of my daughters with a college or life-related problem, I was commuting to work, grading papers, prepping, writing, sending off a manuscript for publication, and doing Matwaala work in between. I know women are great multi-taskers, but now looking back I think it was the deliberate little steps that added up to each iteration of the Matwaala festival. Plus, Usha and I had each other to lean on, commiserate, and make decisions collaboratively. We were a team and we felt committed to our poets and to our mission. My family respected our Matwaala project because they knew it was more than a project; it also involved them in a way, since we were opening avenues to the next generation of South Asian poets and embracing the South Asian community as a part of multicultural America.
I felt Matwaala grew to its full potential in 2021 in the middle of the nightmarish Covid pandemic, when we expanded Matwaala to include virtual readings by other marginalized groups. Our readings by African American, indigenous, Mexican, Caribbean, Dalit and Asian American poets brought more poets and audiences into our fold. The poets of color series garnered a beautiful write-up in Poets and Writers and secured us much appreciation within the larger community of readers and writers.
Other organizations recognized our presence, both in the US and in India. Universities in India invited us to submit essays on Matwaala to their online journals. In the US, Think India Foundation invited Matwaala poets to exhibit a poetry wall in their exhibition sponsored by the Smithsonian. We presented at least four times in the last 10 years at the AWP Conference. Matwaala spread the name of our organization in the venues they traveled to and published in. Looking back, I can only say that Matwaala was built on passion. Our joined passion, Usha’s and mine, was accompanied by dedication, friendship, collaboration, and love for poetry. Not that we did not struggle, but we kept going even when the chips were down—we are not non-profit, so funding to execute more extensive plans has been stalled many times. Neither of us are great marketing geniuses but keep on convinced of the work. I don’t regret a second that I have devoted to Matwaala and can only thank my mental and physical stamina for arriving at the doorstep of our 10th anniversary.
-- Pramila Venkateswaran
Looking back, I cannot believe the number of grants we were able to piece together to pay honoraria to our poets, from Poets and Writers to university grants, get press coverage in newspapers and magazines, and columns in elite American, Global and Indian poetry magazines. Matwaala is truly the example of what activists call “the power of one.”
Here, we were two women, Usha and me.
We had family obligations, worked full time, wrote, published and were now shepherding a collective of South Asian poets. We were clear in our mission of bringing visibility to South Asian poets and have them be seen as part of American poetry. Matwaala was and is history in the making, the history of American poetry, as multifarious, variegated, braided with its immigrant stories.
On any given day, if I was not helping one of my daughters with a college or life-related problem, I was commuting to work, grading papers, prepping, writing, sending off a manuscript for publication, and doing Matwaala work in between. I know women are great multi-taskers, but now looking back I think it was the deliberate little steps that added up to each iteration of the Matwaala festival. Plus, Usha and I had each other to lean on, commiserate, and make decisions collaboratively. We were a team and we felt committed to our poets and to our mission. My family respected our Matwaala project because they knew it was more than a project; it also involved them in a way, since we were opening avenues to the next generation of South Asian poets and embracing the South Asian community as a part of multicultural America.
I felt Matwaala grew to its full potential in 2021 in the middle of the nightmarish Covid pandemic, when we expanded Matwaala to include virtual readings by other marginalized groups. Our readings by African American, indigenous, Mexican, Caribbean, Dalit and Asian American poets brought more poets and audiences into our fold. The poets of color series garnered a beautiful write-up in Poets and Writers and secured us much appreciation within the larger community of readers and writers.
Other organizations recognized our presence, both in the US and in India. Universities in India invited us to submit essays on Matwaala to their online journals. In the US, Think India Foundation invited Matwaala poets to exhibit a poetry wall in their exhibition sponsored by the Smithsonian. We presented at least four times in the last 10 years at the AWP Conference. Matwaala spread the name of our organization in the venues they traveled to and published in. Looking back, I can only say that Matwaala was built on passion. Our joined passion, Usha’s and mine, was accompanied by dedication, friendship, collaboration, and love for poetry. Not that we did not struggle, but we kept going even when the chips were down—we are not non-profit, so funding to execute more extensive plans has been stalled many times. Neither of us are great marketing geniuses but keep on convinced of the work. I don’t regret a second that I have devoted to Matwaala and can only thank my mental and physical stamina for arriving at the doorstep of our 10th anniversary.
-- Pramila Venkateswaran