If you had to describe this year’s theme without using the word “restless,” how would you explain it?
Sleepless nights, self-destructive tendencies, allegiances to our anxiety, fraying systems…how do we make it through? What, or who, shows us the way out?
What is the best media you have watched/read this term?
This is a cruel question because I’m always consuming multiple texts at once! My friend, Bilal, showed me a poem called “On Living,” by Nâzim Hikmet. It opens:
“Living is no laughing matter: you must live with great seriousness like a squirrel, for example— I mean without looking for something beyond and above living”
It’s such a great reminder. Especially at this time of term, and especially if you’re a first year. Don’t be afraid to be part of something. To take a stance. Voice your opinion. Praise. Crack a joke. Make the thing you’ve been wanting to make. These are all vulnerable acts. But there is nothing more inspiring than making your passion visible in hopes that it is shared.
Honorable mentions:
I’ve spent the last 8 months inside Hanif Abdurraqib’s memoir There’s Always This Year, lent to me by my dear friend, Muhammad. Though I’m an English major, I’m an incredibly slow reader. I think it's the poet in me! I’m always underlining and relishing every second line or word.
Last week, I read through the entirety of Omar Sakr and Safda Ahmed’s The Nightmare Sequence in one sitting, which is rare for me when it comes to poetry collections. Isabella Hammad features in the epigraph and asks, "We who are not there, witnessing from afar, in what ways are we mutilating ourselves when we dissociate to cope?”
Apologies to my tutors! I know none of these are on Leganto
What’s been your favourite part so far about being the UNSWeetened Coordinator? (Besides Ineke, Walter and I obviously)
This platform gives me the chance to create as many opportunities for people as possible to publish, design, collaborate, socialise, and at the very least, get pen to paper.
I recently hosted my first writing workshop called ‘The Gift of Writing,’ where I facilitated the writing of odes, letters, confessionals, dedications etc. I was overwhelmed by the creativity. I saw how love transcends temporal and geographic borders. So many people wrote to loved ones overseas. Past loves. Future loves, yet to arrive. One author drew an audio message at the top of his paper. I didn’t even know you could send a 20 minute voice note. That’s dangerous knowledge for me! Another author wrote to her husband, who is in Indonesia, and she taught me the Indonesian word for cute. Our conversation was very gemes!
I’ve also just recruited my volunteer team for 2026. Every time I step into a room with these volunteers, I am at once intimidated and humbled by the wealth of knowledge and passion that circulates. They energise me so much. I might even be able to quit caffeine!
What was your favourite part about last year's journal; archive?
This is a beautiful question. I love that ‘Archive’ functioned as both a verb and a noun. First, this act we consciously do in the present: to archive something is to see it and realise, in the moment, “hey, this is worth holding onto, even for people who’ll come into this world after me.” It’s an act that alchemizes past, present, and future.
Then, as a noun, an archive is a repository we can continually return to if we need to come back home to ourselves. I feel like a lot of our lives are spent re-learning important lessons that are quite simple, but we’ve forgotten. As a theme, I saw firsthand how ‘archive’ challenged authors to go back, not always out of remorse, but with a responsibility to, and love for, futurity.
Aesthetically, ‘Archive’ was just so reflective of the 2025 Coordinator’s, Juno’s, style! She’s a very cool human.
What do you think makes UNSWeetened different from other student journals?
I see UNSWeetened not only as a literary journal, but as an artistic community. At UNSWeetened, we know that literature is lived before it is written. That writing is not just an accessory, nor stakeless, but a necessary vector that runs through our material realities. It is through creative permission that we access the core of who we are and how we want to advocate for each other.
We’re an accessible publication dedicated to meeting writers at whatever skill level they’re at. We know that improvement looks different for everyone, and so our editorial process is dialogic and thorough. We’re not interested in credentials, nor Majors. We’re interested in honesty and ingenuity.
If you could get any author to submit to UNSWeetened, dead or alive, who would it be?
Evelyn Araluen. There’s not much praise that I can give that hasn’t already been given more eloquently. Araluen is the kind of poet you’d seek out, not only for her formal interventions, but for her unflinching, rigorous dedication to truth-telling and decolonisation.
What advice would you give to a writer friend, who you don't know and totally isn’t sitting in front of you, if they wanted to submit to the unsweetened journal?
I understand that visibility is not always the end goal of a piece of writing. There are some works that should exist only for select eyes. BUT, if your hesitance to submit is rooted in fear (‘I’m afraid of being judged. I’m afraid that this isn’t interesting.’) it’s worth noting that we often inherit narratives that conflate silence and self-censorship with humility. Ask yourself, ‘whose power depends on my silence? What conversations am I preventing by always observing on the periphery?’ It comes back to Nâzim Hikmet’s poem!
If there is a possibility that your writing could be the stars for someone else who is lost, why not take that chance to share it? We learn by doing, but we never have to learn alone. Our team of editors is right behind you. ♥️
For those who are daunted by the editing process, remember that writing, good writing, is never solitary. Listen to Uncle Iroh: "There is nothing wrong with letting people who love you help you…Not that I love you. I just met you!”
