Tea Gerbeza Challenges Ableist Perceptions of Normalcy in How I Bend Into More

Among the many complex themes in Tea Gerbeza's work, reclaiming disabled identity, disability justice, and disabled and queer joy are just a sampling. These concerns and more find their way onto the page in her new work of poetry, How I Bend Into More (Palimpsest Press).

This spectacular debut challenges ableist perceptions that impact so many, grounded in the author's personal experience with scoliosis. This long poem is deliberately designed as an act of reclamation, both in form and theme, and the devices used in these pages set Gerbeza apart as an emerging author with a powerful voice.

We're very happy to share this enthralling Line & Lyric Interview with our readers, in which the author discusses the inspiration for her poetry and the process of creating this stunning book.

Open Book:

Can you tell us a bit about how you chose your title? If it’s a title of one of the poems, how does that piece fit into the collection? If it’s not a poem title, how does it encapsulate the collection as a whole? 

Tea Gerbeza:

The title is from a line found in the last section of the book, near the end, that propels the reader to the new self—the paper-quilled I— the speaker has been creating throughout the book. It wasn’t me that saw this line as my title at the start; it was actually Dr. Jeanette Lynes, Director of the University of Saskatchewan’s MFA in Writing program and one of my mentors, that circled the line and said “this is your book’s title.” She then bestowed some title wisdom on me—a gripping title is one that is active, moving, one that makes someone hang on to your book out of curiosity. She said that “how I bend into more” had that quality—there was an active action being made (bending) and a curiosity to the line that made her want to read the book to find out what the title pointed toward. She also said that it captured the book’s essence. Once you get to this line in the long poem, it is at an intense moment of transformation for the speaker—her metamorphosis from self to re-articulated self. So, of course Jeanette was right. Thank you, Jeanette!

OB:

What was the strangest or most surprising part of the writing process for this collection? 

TG:

I’d say the most surprising part was how the paper quilling narrative found its way into the book. Paper quilling shapes and designs was my process of problem-solving poems when I got stuck, but my mentor during my time in the MFA in Writing program, Jennifer Still, recognized the magic happening in the paper quilled pieces I’d been creating and encouraged me to see if the paper-quilled shapes were a part of the poem in themselves. Turns out, they were. I didn’t realize how much of my own story was coiled into these paper shapes and once I added the visual components to the book, everything I was working toward became clear. It was so powerful a realization; I thought to myself, of course my body is paper. Of course the self I’m searching for is one I spiral with my own hands. 

OB:

Did you write poems individually and begin assembling this collection from stand-alone pieces, or did you write with a view to putting together a collection from the beginning?

TG:

I always knew this book would be a collection, or even a series of books, from the start. I knew what I wanted the book to do and held a poem that had the essence of my desired ending like a charm to work toward (this poem, funny enough, did not make it into the book). I had first envisioned the book to be stand-alone poems that wrote to an overarching theme, but in conversation with poet Sarah Ens about her long poem Flyway (published by Turnstone Press, 2022), I realized all the poems I was writing were actually one book-length poem weaving in and out of each other. Now, if you ask me to discuss long poems be prepared for a Very Long conversation because I have Thoughts on the genre.

OB:

Apart from your editor and other publishing staff, who were the most instrumental people in the life cycle of this book? Did you share your writing with anyone while working on these poems?

TG:

This book would not have been possible without so many people! I shared everything I wrote with trusted friends and mentors; their feedback was essential to the growth and enrichment of the book. Huge thanks and gratitude to: Cat Abenstein, Sheri Benning, Courtney Bates-Hardy, Jes Battis, Elena Bentley, Dayne Blair, Kathleen James-Cavan, Leanne Charette, Amanda Dawson, Allie Fenson, Nicole Haldoupis, Yolanda Hansen, Carla Harris,  Tonia Laird, Randy Lundy, Jeanette Lynes, Avnee Paranjape, Tanisha Khan, Nicole Mae, Carley Mayson, Shannon McConnell, Emilia Nielsen, Jocelyne Paulhus, Jason Purcell, Medrie Purdham, Sarah Ens, Christian Riegel, Michael Trussler, Jennifer Still, Daniel Scott Tysdal, and Matt Wincherauk. Outside of directly working with the book, there were so many others that supported me with their love—you know who you are. I also want to thank Travis Chi Wing Lau for his thoughts and writing on scoliosis, disabled bodyminds, and pain. Your work moved me (and continues to move me) in so many ways. Thank you. Writing truly is the friends you make along the way!

OB:

What's more important in your opinion: the way a poem opens or the way it ends?

TG:

While I believe both are important, I feel the most gratification when I land an ending. Endings, for me, are what make me gasp the most after reading a poem (!!!), haha, but in seriousness, endings bring me back to a poem (to reread, to teach, to share), so when writing my own poems, the ending is what is important for me to get right. Endings, too, are what echo beyond the page and what I often find myself thinking about over and over again after I finish reading a poem. Finally, an ending is what I usually write before I write the rest of the poem, and I hold that ending—or end feeling—as a charm for finishing the poem (even if the original ending changes as the poem is revised). 

OB:

Who did you dedicate the collection to and why?

TG:

How I Bend Into More is dedicated to my younger self, and this might sound silly to some, but it was important to me to acknowledge the self I used to be who struggled so much with who she was, how her body looked, and the ableism that defined her self-worth. I’m constantly in conversation with the different selves that live in me in many of my projects and conceptualizing them as other people has helped me grieve, regulate, create healthy boundaries, forgive, grow, and find myself, my voice. It was my way of saying hey baby Tea, we make it. Imagine that. It’s also a reminder for me—as I continue to learn, struggle, unlearn, relearn—that I do the best I can in the moment. 

OB:

For you, is form freedom or constraint in poetry?

TG:

For me, poetry is constantly adhering to some kind of form, whether that’s fixed form, free form, visual form, bodymind form, etc. Form has been both freeing and constraining for me, but I think constraint in form has forced me to write something I wouldn’t otherwise have written and there’s magic in that, even if in revision the form is dismantled. Breaking form can also be a powerful tool for meaning and emphasis (for instance, what happens when a sestina stops adhering to its repetition cycle? What meaning lies there?). Creation of a new form can be exciting and dynamic (see Daniel Scott Tysdal’s exceptional collection The End is in the Middle: MAD Fold-In Poems or Nisha Patel’s A Fate Worse Than Death) and have me going “wowee wowee wowee!!!” in admiration. However, I wouldn’t stick to a form if the poem wasn’t vibing with it or I felt too constrained. A poem will always tell you what it needs.

OB:

What are you working on next?

TG:

Right now, I’m working on a few projects: a collection that centers itself around disabled queer platonic friendships and navigating what care looks like in these relationships (also a very professional way to write love poems to my friends!). My other project is a more thorough exploration of mine and my parents’ experience during the Bosnian War/Yugoslavian Civil War and its aftereffects once we landed in Saskatchewan. I use paper quilling as an entry point again like I’ve done with How I Bend Into More, and I suspect that project will become something entirely different than what I think it will be right now. Finally, I’m slowly working on some fiction—possibly a novel(la)—that is also interested in disabled friendships and queerness.

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Tea Gerbeza is a queer, disabled writer and multimedia artist creating in oskanakâ-asastêki in Treaty 4 territory (Regina, SK) and on the Homeland of the Métis. Tea holds a BA (Hons.) in English (2017) and an MA in Creative Writing and English from the University of Regina (2019). Tea’s thesis work for her MA was SSHRC funded. She also holds an MFA in Writing from the University of Saskatchewan (2021). Much of Tea’s work focuses on themes of reclaiming disabled identity, disability justice, disabled and queer joy, queer identity, the Bosnian-Croatian diaspora, memory and trauma, friendship, the complexities of care and intimacy, and the complexities of pain. Often, her verse and visual art intersect in her poetry, as seen in How I Bend Into More.