Jay Anderson

“I want to make art gratuitously and unapologetically for myself and for people like me – that’s what inspires me and keeps me going.”

Storybound is an interview series with people who have helped shape the Centre for Stories into what it is today. This series explores what it means to connect with people in our community who are captivated by stories.

Jay Anderson is a writer and social worker living in Booroloo on Whadjuk Noongar Boodja, which always was and always will be Aboriginal land. Jay completed a Bachelor of Arts in professional writing and a Master of Research in creative writing at Curtin University and worked in book publishing and community arts for several years in various roles. Jay’s writing has been published in several online journals and print anthologies, and he co-founded Pulch Mag, a West Australian youth publication. Jay currently works in the justice reintegration space, supporting men as they leave prison and as a story trainer for the Centre for Stories, and he’s interested in how storytelling can be used as a tool for social change.

Centre for Stories: What is your favourite way to consume stories?

Jay Anderson: A few years ago, I might have said reading because I’ve been a bookworm for as long as I can remember, but I came to the Centre for Stories as an intern in 2017, learnt about their oral storytelling program, became a storyteller, and then a story trainer and started working with people to support them to share their own stories – this was not only incredibly empowering for me because I was given the opportunity to be heard and listened to in a safe and supportive environment, but it was also incredibly rewarding to support others to do this too. And I suppose I’ve spent my whole life-consuming oral stories around my family’s kitchen tables, too. So, oral storytelling is probably my favourite way to consume stories. However, I still read, listen to podcasts, watch films, and attend events – I suppose I love experiencing stories no matter what form they take, but oral storytelling has a very special place for me now. At the moment, I’m watching the television series White Fever, which was created, written by, and stars Ra Chapman. I’m listening to Cowboy Carter by Beyoncé, and I’m reading Returning by Kirli Saunders.

CFS: How do you think you have contributed to building/maintaining creative spaces?

JA: When I was doing my undergraduate studies, I got involved with Grok – the student publication at Curtin University – and worked as a writer, then an editor, and then as the chief editor of the publication. At one point, Grok was a huge publication – not only on campus but in Perth more generally – but over the years, its reach and impact diminished for various reasons. Over a couple of years, I worked on Grok with an incredible team of writers, editors, and designers; it became a thriving space for creatives coming through the university again. After we graduated, a few of us got together and co-founded Pulch Mag – a publication created by and for youth in WA – because we knew there was a gap in the publishing industry, and we wanted to give young people an opportunity to share their work. I have been involved with the Centre for Stories for several years working on a variety of projects, but some of the highlights have been Bright Lights, No City (a project for young LGBTQIA+ people from regional and rural areas of WA), Backstories (a storytelling festival in backyards across WA), Everyone Deserves A Place to Call Home (a project for people with lived experience of homelessness), and Word Up (the Centre’s oral storytelling program for schools). Building and maintaining creative spaces – especially for individuals, groups, and communities who are systematically excluded from mainstream spaces – is incredibly important to me, and it’s something that was really instilled in me during my time at the Centre for Stories.

CFS: If you could work on a collaborative project with someone, who would it be?

JA: Tough question. The unrealistic answer would probably be Beyoncé or someone else incredibly famous I’m likely never to meet – and honestly I don’t care what project Queen B wants to collaborate on, I’d do whatever she told me to do. The realistic answer would probably be the Centre for Stories because I’ve been thinking it would be incredibly powerful to do a project with people with lived experience of the justice system, and then I’d be bringing together the two parts of my professional life – and because I know that the Centre, as always, would manage the project with the utmost care.

CFS: What are your goals for 2024 and what will you be working on next?

JA: I actually made a ‘to-do-before-you-turn-30’ list recently, so I have a lot of goals for this year. The big one is to figure out my work-life balance – which is something I’ve been saying for years, but I’ve just finished my first year as a social worker, so it’s probably crunch time now. I want to make sure I’m taking care of myself so I don’t burn out because I’m really passionate about the work that I do. I also want to make more time for my creative writing because it took a backseat while I was completing my Master of Social Work and finding my feet as a practitioner. Still, I really need to write my first book because my grandma has been waiting patiently for it so I can dedicate it to her. I also want to take Burmese language lessons, stop biting my nails, and quit vaping, among other things on the list. So, I have many goals this year, but generally speaking, I am very optimistic, but perhaps not the most realistic, so we’ll see how much of it I can tick off.

CFS: Based on your experiences in the writing industry, what is the best advice you would like to give emerging writers who are unsure where to start?

JA: Find your community. I found mine at Grok, at Pulch, and at the Centre for Stories, and I wouldn’t be the writer – let alone the person – I am today without all of the people I met along the way who supported my creative practice and me more generally. And look for mentorship, too. I did the Centre’s Writing Change, Writing Inclusion program a few years ago, and I was mentored by the wonderful Rashida Murphy for a year, which gave me the opportunity to learn from one of the best in the business. So find your community, and hit up Rashida if you’re looking for a world-class mentor.

CFS: What does it mean to be involved at the Centre for Stories now that you no longer work here as a staff member?

JA: Leaving the Centre was one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever made because I loved working there so much, but it was, in part, the projects I was involved in at the Centre that led me to social work. The Centre for Stories is a second home to me, so I’m so grateful for their role in shaping who I’ve become today, and I’m so glad that I get to continue working as a story trainer for their school’s program and as a facilitator for Queer Story Nights. No matter where I go in life, the Centre will always be a special place for me, so I’ll always return – for now as a story trainer, but later maybe just as an attendee of one of their many wonderful events, and hopefully one day I win the lottery so I can become a major donor and give back to an organisation that has done so much for me and for so many other people in our community.

These stories have been licensed to the Centre for Stories by the Storyteller. For reproduction and distribution of these stories, please contact the Centre for Stories.

This interview was published in 2024.