Writer in Residence

Mentors & Allies 2: Meghan Bell

By Chelene Knight

When I first met Meghan Bell I was immediately aware of her ability to come up with amazing project ideas. During one of my first editorial meetings at Room magazine, Meghan was chatting about this idea for a 40th Anniversary anthology. Listening to her go on excitedly about something that seemed very difficult and time consuming to pull off alongside running a magazine, I thought yes, ok, this is what I want to do! Four years later, I am still here listening to more fabulous Meghan-brainstorms about various projects. What I find different about her brainstorming vs everyone else’s, is that she thinks of ways to create equitable space for folks. She doesn’t just write a grant to get a chunk of money to “whip something up,” she writes a thoughtful, strategic, well-planned argument for why such a project would not only uplift the magazine, but give long term space to folks who would never get a foot, an arm, a leg, even an elbow in the publishing world. Using her own time, privilege, and energy to do what’s right—thanks, Meghan.

Check out Meghan's answers to my questions about being an ally. 

What do you think makes a good ally?

Haha, I'm not sure—I'm always a bit thrown by the word "ally." Sometimes it feels like a label that people are keen to stamp on themselves, but without much introspection. I guess I'm wary when people are earnest about identifying themselves as allies. I'm not a fan of Margaret Thatcher, but I like this quote: "If you have to tell people you are, you aren't." So, I guess what I'm saying is, a good ally doesn't feel the need to identify themselves as an ally (in the most literal sense, and there are, I imagine, good exceptions). Good allies make their allyship known through their actions.

A good ally is also willing to give up some of their privilege to others. This is essential.

If you could do one thing to make a massive difference in CanLit, what would it be? What would you like to see change?

JUST one thing? Okay, I'd renovate every arts space, bookstore, coffee shop, and bar that doubles as a reading venue to be fully accessible. I'd like to see individual cities make this a priority. There are some grants available for renovations, but the ones I've seen are only open to non-profits, and a lot of venues are for-profit businesses (and a lot of literary organizers don't own their venues) so the support isn't really there yet. I guess this one isn't just for CanLit, but all the arts.

I think you need to have an ally to be one. Who has been an ally for you? How?

Keith Maillard at UBC is a great example of a strong straight white male ally to a lot of emerging CanLit writers facing barriers and oppression. But this is a difficult question for me to answer. I don't talk a lot about my own intersections (I have anxiety and have experienced bouts of depression, and I'm bisexual), and I mostly think of myself as having a lot of privileges (whiteness, abled-ness, financial privilege, among others). I honestly don't know how to answer this! I can name mentors and people who have been supportive of me, but I'm not sure they would fit the definition of "ally" just because they often had around the same amount of privilege as me, or less! I think that's just status quo?

If you weren’t in the publishing/writing world, what would you be doing?

Ah! I've wanted to be a writer (and cartoonist) since grade three. However, I considered going to business school (my mom wanted me to) and actually turned down the Sauder School of Business when I was eighteen to study creative writing and psychology at the University of Victoria. Then for a couple of years at UVic, I wanted to pursue a PhD in Psychology. I decided against it after completing an honours thesis and working for a research centre. But I never wanted to study business, and the concerns I had about psychology as an academic discipline (let's just say, my rants about my honours seminar were remarkably prescient) would have overwhelmed me. I just dug up an old sentence I wrote in a trashed draft of a novel back in 2012: I think when you try to impose rules on the infinite varieties of the human mind it's only natural to think of yourself as the exception to them.

Then I spent four years working in arts marketing, first at Evergreen Cultural Centre, then the Vancouver International Film Festival. It was fun, but I don't think I belonged in marketing either. My favourite part of both jobs was graphic design.

If writing and publishing falls apart, I'll probably just focus on grant-writing, business development, and project management in the arts. I've been joking that if I had a punch card for every arts festival I've worked for in Vancouver, I'd have a free sandwich by now. I'd also continue to freelance as a graphic designer and would probably try to get back into illustration.

Name one thing you want to say to Chelene that you’ve never said. This can be negative, I won’t cry. LOL

I think I've said this to you before, but you're one of the best people I know and you inspire me.

The views expressed in the Writer-in-Residence blogs are those held by the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of Open Book.


Chelene Knight is the author of the poetry collection Braided Skin and the memoir Dear Current Occupant, winner of the 2018 Vancouver Book Award. Her essays have appeared in multiple Canadian and American literary journals, plus the Globe and Mail and the Toronto Star. Her work is anthologized in Making RoomLove Me TrueSustenanceThe Summer Book, and Black Writers Matter.

The Toronto Star called Knight, “one of the storytellers we need most right now.” In addition to her work as a writer, Knight is managing editor at Room, programming director for the Growing Room Festival, and CEO of #LearnWritingEssentials. She often gives talks about home, belonging and belief, inclusivity, and community building through authentic storytelling. 

Knight is currently working on Junie, a novel set in Vancouver’s Hogan’s Alley, forthcoming in 2020.

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