Where Her Worlds Collide: Sonora Jha, Feminism, and Writing
Hedgebrook—a place where Sonora Jha’s worlds collide. Not only is she a board member of Hedgebrook Writers' Retreat, but she is also an engaged alumna and has served on the jury for awards for Artist Trust, Hedgebrook, and Hugo House. Despite her many duties, Jha made time to discuss her journey as a writer and a feminist with Hedgebrook intern Yaslynn Makein.
YM: How did you hear about Hedgebrook and when did you become a part of the community?
SJ: I heard about it back in 2008. I attended a writer’s event—she was from Mumbai, and that writer was in residence at Hedgebrook. She told me about Hedgebrook and asked if I had heard of it. I was like “What is Hedgebrook?” It was just interesting hearing that someone from Mumbai had to come to Seattle and have an event just for me to learn about it—something that was right here.
I then applied to be a writer in residence. I had a residency for a month in 2009 and that’s where I finished the first draft of my first novel. Since then, I’ve been able to go back a few times for other residencies there. For my second book which is my memoir “How to Raise a Feminist Son,” a lot of the writing and a lot of the better writing in it happened at Hedgebrook.
My next book which is coming out in January 2023 is a novel. It is also thanks to Hedgebrook because of all the residencies I’ve had there. I was approached by them to also serve on the board and I gladly agreed because I wanted to find a way to give back to Hedgebrook. I’ve now been serving on the board for almost nine years.
YM: How has Hedgebrook impacted your life?
SJ: It’s not just about the writing. As a feminist, it is very life-giving and life-affirming when I’m at Hedgebrook because that sense of radical hospitality for women to take care of women and have them work on their craft—I mean I get some of my best sleep at Hedgebrook. It’s definitely a place I can rest. I feel so pampered when I’m there because I know that there’s going to be delicious food and I don’t have to have anything to do with cooking it.
All of that is just so unusual for women. We don’t let ourselves be pampered. We are always looking after our families. It has even taught me to take good care of myself and to value being taken care of and that’s a huge thing for women. Hedgebrook has changed my life.
YM: How did Hedgebrook help you get through being a writer/feminist through COVID?
SJ: I was in the last batch of people at Hedgebrook when they decided to shut down just before COVID. I actually got to write in the journal in one of the cottages saying “There’s something called ‘COVID’ here. People are saying there’s a pandemic and we have to shut down. I hope we all make it. If you are reading this, it means that we made it.” I remember, as we left, they gave us masks.
Even though I was disappointed that I was leaving Hedgebrook, I was also just so heartened by their care for us. I know that one of my closest friends was a part of a pandemic write-in that Hedgebrook organized. I wasn’t a part of that because I was working specifically on something else, but I did drop-in to a couple sessions. Just knowing that there were all these women meeting over Zoom and writing together was a really heartening feeling.
I tried to recreate some of Hedgebrook in my home during the pandemic. I tried to bring in that sense of taking care of myself and cooking and eating well. Definitely writing. I tried to create that for myself because it’s such a nurturing space.
YM: Why is being a feminist so important to you? Has it always been a prominent value in your life?
SJ: I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t a feminist. Even as a child, I would feel this sense of injustice. I would feel that not just for me, but as a woman, some things just felt wrong growing up. Knowing that injustice was around me was a feminist awakening. It happened as soon as I became conscious of the world. The declared aspect of knowing the word “feminism” and claiming it as a title happened in my early twenties and then with raising a feminist son because I had very bad examples of masculinity around me in India and my family.
It became very important to me—almost like a survival thing. I didn’t want my son to grow up to be violent. I didn’t want him to grow up to be unfeeling, aloof, emotionally unavailable or contemptuous of women. It’s not just that. I also wanted him to not be held captive by toxic masculinity which would make him think boys don’t cry or that being like a girl is a bad thing or a sign of weakness.
It was important for me to not raise that kind of kid and, for him, to also have a sense of being able to experience his entire spectrum of human emotions. To be able to cry, be moved by art, be wrong, to listen to women, to want to be led by them, and to be able to fail himself. And, also to lobby for women’s choices and believe women when they talk about sexual harassment or even other things. I wanted him to be able to push past those and stand in solidarity with women because it’s also intersectional. The more he stands in solidarity with half of humanity, the more he’ll also be able to be fair and just to himself as a young man of color and to other people of color.