Janice Williamson

This essay, part of a book-length manuscript, “Hexagrams for My Chinese Daughter,” is dedicated to my daughter, Bao, and my mother — and to Cecile Mactaggart, a generous mentor who knows the transformations of mothering, writing, travel and Chinese dragons. I’ve written, taught and rabble-roused at the University of Alberta since 1987. My splendid daughter (now eight) and I garden beautifully at latitude 53.

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