Welcome back to the 5Q Interview Series! Today we are talking with one of this summer's Iowa Young Writers' Studio participants, Yolanda Bai Han. The Iowa Young Writers' Studio is the premier summer youth writing program for high school creative writers. Applicants accepted to the program enroll in courses taught by graduates of Iowa’s many esteemed MFA programs, including the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, the Nonfiction Writing Program, and the Iowa Playwrights Workshop.
1. Hi Yolanda! Tell us a bit about yourself!
Hi beautiful people! I am Yolanda Bai Han, a rising high school senior, and a poet. I was born and raised in Beijing, China. My work mainly discusses religious censorship in China, bilingualism, parental relationship, and communal preservation. Besides that, I also like to work/play with different poetry forms and visualizations.
2. How was your experience at the Iowa Young Writers’ Studio?
It was amazing - and I meant this with no exaggeration at all! The core course, the young writers’ community, the loving and supporting faculty, the events Stephen put together—poetry and fiction reading nights, Open Mics, fro-yo & Princess Bride, introduction to literary comics night… The list can go on and on, and every single item in here impacted me deeply, both as a person and as a writer. IYWS was able to offer something that I found nowhere else—
I came to the city as a poet, choosing the core course led by Joshua Balicki, entitled Influence in Poetry. Over the two weeks, Josh had introduced the class to so many stunning influences in the literary world. Whether it’s by form or by content, whether it’s conscious choices or unconscious instincts, the ways poets interact with each other were truly touching and inspiring. Creative words cannot be seen as isolated pieces; creative writing is something communal and collective. Josh’s course underscores this nature of composition, honoring the interactiveness of words and of human beings. Through this course, I became more aware of my own influences—I started to acknowledge my precursors, reflect upon the reasons why I am heavily influenced by these minds & how I may incorporate the components that I admire and adore of them into my work, and experimented more with After poems. The 21 workshops that we had within the two weeks were so heartening and heartwarming. I was, time and time again, impressed by the amazing group of poets that I was so lucky to have been able to work with. The group was, and I believe still is and will be, a tight community that is built upon trust, respect, and the pursuit of art. Thank you—my awesome peers and Josh! You all are my utmost influencers.
“Iowa days are my happiest days in life so far.” This line had come across so many times in conversations with my peers during Burge meals. And they, too, were not exaggerating. Daily routine in Iowa, for me and my roommate Kavya, was waking up (this was the one task that we could’ve done better at : / sometimes accidents happened, and we woke up to be in shock finding out the time…), showering, going to morning report and morning seminar, lunch at Burge, locking in at Prairie Light (typically drafting or doing workshop letters), workshopping, exploring a store in the city, dinner at Burge (or elsewhere… We explored quite an amount of Iowa restaurants and they were delicious!), going to readings and sharings, wandering back to Catlett Hall, and chatting till midnight (we talk about all sorts of things, from mother tongue swear words to life purposes. The conversations have prompted so many poems). The camp schedule guides us to find the balance between having fun and being productive. It’s been two weeks since camp ended, and I’m still in contact with my Iowa friends, knowing that our connection will be lifelong. The shared identity of writers established an automatic resonance and common ground; something was there the first day we met. And from then on, the friendship just naturally built itself. Camp never ends, as Stephen would say; the bonds and connections made at camp will last. Truly, as he puts it, these acquaintances will find their way to extend themselves into life, into writings. Kavya and the other campers, too, are my greatest influences.
The faculty here are some really awesome people. Two poets—yes, two but not one—worked with me closely during camp. Upon arrival, each of us was assigned a counselor. You may think that this is just a casual setting of camps, and that there’s nothing special about it that is worthy of being shared. What’s different is: IYWS counselors are not just normal camp guardians—they are writers or poets themselves, students or graduates from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. My counselor Scout happened to be a poet (what are the odds!). The first night’s little dorm gathering, they encouraged us to find time to meet with them, as they would be willing and happy to read our words and help with revisions. Over the weeks, I met up with them individually twice to work on my poetry portfolio. These private conversations presented me with so much valuable, constructive feedback and encouragement. Faculty here influenced me with such care and expertise.
Besides all these, there’s at least one special event awaiting every night. Best part is: it’s always something new. Not a single activity was repetitive, and most of them were highly motivating and entertaining. And joy, I would argue, is one of the most essential influencers of a writer’s.
IYWS was a blast (of influences) - for brain, soul, and heart! So happy to have been here.
3. Did you start and / or finish any work here that you are excited about?
Yes! Quite a few, actually. The city of Iowa just somehow prompts writing; Lauren said that this is due to the magnetic field—the writers’ brainpower’s echoes, which I find makes a lot of sense. Anyways, I’ll share the one that excites me the most!
I wrote a poem entitled Zanghua one night at dorm, inspired by my conversation with Kavya, my roommate. The poem is a Chinese wordplay—as we have four tones, sometimes the meanings can be so apart despite the Pinyin being the same—that satirizes misogyny carried in Chinese curses. The wordplay was not intentional; it was a pure accident that somehow just happened. I read and workshopped it afterwards with my classmates. And it struck me: the aesthetics that came from translation and the pleasure I got from writing it—as a bilingual girl, I have always found translation to be exceedingly channeling; I meant the sense of unity not only came from literal meanings joining, but identities of self—was so fascinating. So, starting from the poem, I have begun to consciously write translational wordplay poems. I have decided to take it with a bit more seriousness and make it a little project that’s centered around bilingualism and navigating through cultures.
4. Could you share a specific event or detail about your time here that was transformative?
Workshop is a collective imagination.
In early seminars, Josh shared with us what Matthew Salesses sees as a workshop. In later workshops, we have repeatedly and actively practiced that definition. As a group of seven poets, we worked with each other and with each other’s words to envision a revision together. No matter whose work was being workshopped, we all treated it as preciously and carefully, yet boldly and imaginatively, as we would’ve treated our own work.
We lived in a world where meritocracy can be dominating, implementing a mindset of competing with our peers to gain scarce resources. I sometimes found myself trapped in the system, longing for concord in the midst of contests. I was born and raised in China, where 12.9 million test takers fight for the 650 thousands spots that good universities hold, where education is seen with overwhelming weight and university is considered one of the most defining characteristics of a person, and where sometimes only scores are taken as an indication of a student’s. I tried and tried to seek my way out. Yet again and again, I got dragged into that familiar competitive mindset.
Camp ended. Workshops ended. Yet: this line stayed with me; the idea of collective imagination stayed in me; the experience of once being so strengthened and supported by a cohort stayed in me. The workshops spoke to me gently, telling me how collaboration is not merely an alternative but a better approach to poetry writing, to studying. And to living. The workshops assured me firmly, guaranteeing me that cooperation is feasible and worth seeking, through allowing me to feel the power of it and the empowerment that it has granted.
5. How do you think the experience might shape your future?
IYWS provides me with a new lens of living. The two weeks’ immersion into poems made me re-reflect upon what poetry means to me. The documentation of non-linear moments, I have decided, around the end of the first week of camp, that this is what poetry means to me, at least for now.
A subtle shift in my way of living comes with that reconsideration of poetry. Every morning I wake up with great excitement—as a poet, I am eager to grasp all the non-linear moments that life has to offer and then put them into verse. I am the house of words waiting for thoughts to come visit, thrilled to host them with poems. I started to live with an attempt to preserve, and through that, became a more observant person. Living itself is poetic. And as a poet, I shall honor that poeticness. And as a person, I shall cherish that precious gift.
In summary, Iowa reveals to me tangibly that becoming a better writer is contingent on becoming a better live-r, and vice versa.