Book Interview: 'Before We Were Insects,' Kae Winter
In this interview, we will explore the depths of love and abuse in our conversation with Kae Winter, author of 'Before We Were Insects.'
Before We Were Insects delves into the intricate dynamics of love, abuse, and marginalized identities through the lens of insect symbolism.
Kae Winter, the author, draws parallels between the vulnerable existence of insects and the hidden complexities within human relationships, shedding light on topics often overlooked or misunderstood.
With a background in therapy and poetry, Winter navigates the delicate balance of portraying love and abuse with raw empathy, offering solace to those who feel silenced or alone in their experiences.
Through their prose and advocacy work as a gender-fluid lesbian, Winter contributes to ongoing conversations about representation, visibility, and acceptance within the LGBTQ+ community and beyond.
Your book "Before We Were Insects" beautifully weaves together themes of intimacy, vulnerability, and the unseen complexities within relationships. Can you share what inspired you to explore these particular themes through the lens of insect symbolism?
I've always had an affinity for little creatures, especially the bugs that are always around and in communication with us humans via the relationship we share with the earth.
I found over the last few years that as I was navigating these romantic relationships where I was often alone or in solitude, the insects were in some ways communicating with me, making me feel less crazy and less alone.
The quiet communities of vulnerable creatures among us, just doing their hard work and existing, trying not to be harmed, made me feel understood.
In your exploration of covert emotional abuse within the context of a modern-day afab lesbian relationship, you shed light on a topic often overlooked or misunderstood. How do you navigate the delicate balance of portraying love and abuse in a way that's both raw and empathetic?
I believe that, without finding the beauty and the love that endures, even in the face of adversity, we resign ourselves to the notion that the essence of love is illusory, and accepting that reality is too wrought in sorrow, for me personally, to bear.
Your chapbook draws parallels between the intricate existence of insects and the hidden aspects of human experience, particularly covert emotional abuse. How does this unique perspective enhance your exploration of marginalized voices and societal trauma in your poetry?
My hope was to offer a fresh lens through which to examine complex issues of the human experience, particularly in intimate "private" relationships.
I believe that juxtaposing the seemingly insignificant world of insects with the often overlooked aspects of human suffering highlights the universality of emotional pain and all its nuances.
When writing poetry, I often think about how to humanize the experiences of marginalized individuals and find that illuminating the parallels between their struggles and those of creatures often dismissed or disregarded in mainstream discourse is a theme that comes up often in my work.
I hoped to invite readers to reconsider their perceptions of both insects and the marginalized voices whose stories are often silenced, and, ultimately, by intertwining themes of nature and human experience, the poetry expands the conversation surrounding societal trauma and encourages reflection on the interconnectedness of all living beings.
How do you approach portraying the complexities of love and abuse without romanticizing or demonizing either aspect?
This was difficult for me for a long time.
One day, I realized, as we are all socialized beings of the binary, that our stories and meaning-making are also steeped in the binary, black or white, right or wrong, good or bad, win or lose, and romanticization or demonization.
What poetry offers me is some kind of conduit where the grey area is not only explored in depth but encouraged.
When I'm in my thinking human brain, existing in the day-to-day and jumping from binary to binary, it brings me a lot of solace to know that poetry offers this space to exist with and learn from human complexities, safely and without enrolling the experience to suit our story.
As a Queer Arts Therapist, your work likely intersects with your poetry in profound ways. How does your background in therapy inform your writing process, especially when exploring sensitive topics like covert emotional abuse and marginalized identities?
I've always considered myself a writer/poet first, and all the other hats I wear in life are made from parts of my existence that grew from the writer/poet core.
Having had the privilege of being educated as a Clinical Therapist has both informed me of the dire issues that exist in the mental health/healthcare system, especially for marginalized folks, and given me a wider platform to address these issues with my writing.
I've learned how important it is to give ourselves grace and compassion when dealing with sensitive topics and experiences, such as covert emotional abuse and the multilayered realities of systemic abuse suffered by those who hold marginalized identities.
Being socialized in a capitalistic, inherently sexist, racist, homophobic, ableist, heteronormative society leaves none of us without internalized bias and the ability to cause harm to another person.
I believe it's part of my responsibility in the world, as the human I identify as, to share the truths of what's happening in the in-betweens, the underbellies of these human experiences, drawing from my personal experiences, and others' stories I've been entrusted with.
How do you see poetry serving as a tool for empowerment and healing?
To me, poetry acts as a conduit to the subconscious.
Being able to access the subconscious, especially in community, allows us to explore the hidden parts of our existence and make some kind of conscious sense of it.
Ultimately, I believe this process creates healing not only for the individual but for the collective.
"Before We Were Insects" invites readers to explore the shadows of queer relationships, offering solace to those who may feel silenced or alone in their experiences. What do you hope readers, particularly those who have faced similar struggles, take away from your chapbook?
My hope is that readers feel seen and know they aren't alone.
And the reminder of our interconnectedness to all creatures, even the itty-bitty ones, can bring some kind of lightness, peace and hope to the more shadowy sides of human relationships and experiences.
What unique challenges and rewards have you encountered in recounting your experiences through prose?
The prose process of recounting my experiences hasn't been linear.
There have been times when I've had to step away from the writing for extended periods because the writing and editing process were too triggering.
However, allowing myself the space to return to the prose each time also allowed the healing process to occur.
If it weren't for being able to write about these experiences, I don't feel like I would be where I am today, having clarity and not continuing to gaslight myself while attempting to see the best in people.
A close friend of mine once said, "We all harm each other, and the hope is to learn from this harm and navigate the world trying to do as little harm as possible."
That has stayed with me and helped me move through the muckier parts of the non-linear healing/writing process.
Prose lent itself to being the form that best held the muddiest parts lovingly.
Is there a favorite poem in your collection? If so, can you please tell us about why it is your favorite?
I love Sacrificial Grasshopper as it was inspired by the purity and genuine curiosity of my five-year-old when they brought a grasshopper carcass to me at the dinner table one evening wanting to know all the questions that most of us adult humans might never pause to ponder.
As a gender-fluid lesbian, your identity undoubtedly informs your writing and advocacy work. How do you see your poetry contributing to ongoing conversations about representation, visibility, and acceptance within the LGBTQ+ community and beyond?
I feel that my identities all naturally interact with each other.
As a lesbian and a gender-fluid person, I've been able to grow my identities right alongside my writing, and vice versa.
I believe that having artistic representation within the LGBTQIA+ community by an LGBTQIA+ person can be (and has been for me personally) life-saving.
We live in a society that upholds certain stories, and it's time for the stories left in the vaults to be heard and seen.
You can buy Before We Were Insects from Bottlecap Press.
Kae is a genderfluid lesbian, parent-by-choice, poet, Queer Arts Therapist, and all-around strange human.
Kae’s poetry focuses on the intersections of marginalized identities, power, privilege, societal trauma, and the experience of relational love, accessing inner joy, and empathy for our monsters.
Kae spends her time being amazed by her kiddo's ability to love unconditionally and all the humble wonder that exists in the world.
Find Out More About Kae Winter:
Instagram: @kaewinterpoetry
Don’t forget to also check out her website: www.kaewinter.com.