Technically, my Arts Internship Program placement was supposed to end in August. It went so well that this ended up not happening, but I’ll get to that part of the story later. I wanted to reflect on my official Arts Internship Program experience, because I’m actually very grateful for it.

I applied for the Arts Internship Program in fall of 2015. (You have to apply first to the program and then into an actual internship placement.) I actually got waitlisted at first—I never found out why, but my theory at the time was that my interests were not exactly non-profit-related, so maybe the program didn’t really fit my goals. (Spoiler alert: I was wrong.)

After the program’s applying-to-internships workshop, I applied to five different internships, as recommended by the program coordinator. I kept the following things in mind: the causes I cared about, the time commitment (I was going to keep working part-time), and I also wanted to get an office position instead of a remote one, since I had done a remote internship the summer before.

Despite that last criteria, Canadian Women in the Literary Arts (CWILA) and their remote Communications Assistant position was my first choice. How perfect could it be? I, a self-described Canadian woman in the literary arts, in an office-y type communications position.

I also interviewed for West Coast LEAF, and although I still love their cause and remain interested in the organization, I didn’t get offered a position. (All for the better, I think.)

My interview with Judith Scholes, a CWILA board member, and Sheila Giffen, at the time the Executive Director and my would-be direct supervisor, went very well. Having had my fair share of interviews at this point, I now know that you sometimes just get feelings about certain employers, and I got that feeling with them. I was still a little green in the employment business at the time, so I was a little nervous, but I could sense that CWILA was the organization for me.

As a minority among minorities—a girl growing up in the Philippines who loved books—I understand what it means to be underrepresented in a field that you love. When I grew up dreaming about writing my own book, I thought about the fact that I had never seen a Filipino man (let alone a Filipina) publish a mainstream fiction work. Would it be weird, I thought, when I do that?

I told this to my future employers, and it’s one of the few parts of my interview that I remember. The other part is that I was curious about social media: I had checked out CWILA’s social media feeds, and was astounded I’d never heard of them before. I wanted to help CWILA spread their reach, and I wanted to keep them active online, where social justice thrives.

Although accounting for race still remains a difficult issue, CWILA allowed me to develop professional social media skills, and they did it with enthusiasm and encouragement. Sheila gave me the personal project of developing a social media policy while managing the organization’s social media feeds. I also had the opportunity to read and share the various interviews and essays that CWILA published, which, as a student of English literature, were incredibly exciting, especially when the interviews and essays were by people who I thought belonged only in textbooks.

Something that is frustrating about CWILA is that the many amazing people involved with it are so far spread out: from us here in Vancouver to my new direct supervisor and CWILA Chair in Halifax. Not only are we in different timezones, but we also have lives outside of the non-profit. Many of CWILA are academics, writers, editors, critics, etc. It is hard to stay on top of things, or get in touch, or stay on one page.

But this is also what I love about CWILA. When Erin Wunker asked me in July if I was preparing to move out of my position, I told her I would love to stay if they needed me. I’m so excited to be part of this organization while it is still growing. There is so much work left to do, and I am so excited to be part of it.