How an Ordinary Chinese Mom Curated Her First Exhibition in Canada

Photo / Ziwei's daily life in Canada

I’m a 32-year-old mom from a small town in China, and a new immigrant to Canada. I’ve been out of the workforce for five years. I have no local connections, no resources, and no prior experience organizing exhibitions or events. For a long time, I deeply doubted my own abilities and often felt anxious in social situations.

So when I first tried to make an exhibition happen here, I almost wanted to give up every single day.

But in the end, I did it.

Even though it wasn’t as perfect as I imagined, I truly believe that with the right support, every mom can achieve what she dreams of.

Timeline

December 2024: The idea of bringing The Mom Story Exhibition from the GlobalMoms Initiative (GMI) to Canada came to me. The founder helped form a small volunteer team.

January 2025: I started searching for venues online, contacting galleries, and submitting an artist statement and exhibition proposal. The second gallery I reached out to responded! I also wanted to seek sponsorship or partnership opportunities, but unfortunately, that part didn’t work out.

January–April: I joined brainstorming meetings with the GMI founder and co-curators. Volunteers helped with translation. I oversaw story selection, revising translations, and collaborating closely with the design volunteer.

May–July: The designer and I worked on exhibition text and image layout design. Then I contacted a fabric manufacturer for printing, collected my family keepsakes, and wrote captions for each item.

2025 August: I brought all materials back to Canada, sourced local supplies, gathered tree branches, and hand-assembled the exhibition using natural rope and fabric. The captions were written on cardboard, to make sure everything as eco-friendly as possible.

Moments of Doubts

In 2024, I joined a nonprofit organization focused on empowering mothers. In the same year, they held MomStory Exhibition in Tianjin, which deeply moved me. Since then, I’ve had a quiet thought: Could I make something like that happen here in Canada?

But I’m the kind of person who’s full of ideas but often struggles to act. Luckily, with strong encouragement from the GMI founder, I finally decided to go for it.

In the beginning, I simply Googled the term “art gallery” to look for inspiration. Most of what I found were grand, high-end art exhibitions. I was terrified that my small, humble project would be rejected, so much so that I barely dared to contact anyone.

The exhibition setup process was also exhausting. As I stitched fabric and tied threads, I could barely breathe from the pressure. Many times, I thought about giving up the eco-friendly idea and just buying ready-made scrolls. But in the end, I made it.

The Magic of Been Seen

Finally, we were accepted by the city hall’s window display area.

And as it turned out, the art coordinator in charge of the space was also a woman who had previously curated an exhibition about mothers. See? Women help women.

I always thought I wasn’t good at expressing myself and struggled with verbal communication. But while writing the stories behind each keepsake, I found that people genuinely loved my captions. I even received heartfelt encouragement from the founder. At that moment, I realized that writing, might be one of my small gifts.

In my childhood and adultescence, I could not afford to learn anything such as playing piano, dancing, etc. Therefore, the encouragement was unexpectedly comforting. It reminded me that everyone has their own unique strength that they might not know of.

The Power of Leadership

Throughout this curating journey, what struck me most was the importance of leadership.

Our volunteer team wasn’t built on a traditional top-down hierarchy, but rather on flat, collaborative teamwork. No one assumed what others could or couldn’t do. Whenever someone said, “I’d like to try this,” the rest of the team, especially the founder would offer genuine encouragement and practical suggestions.

This supportive, trusting atmosphere helped me overcome my hesitation to ask for help. Instead, I learned to communicate proactively. I learned the importance of “housekeeping” and regular “check-ins”. This became one of the most valuable collaboration strategies I’ve learned.

When progress slowed down, I would clearly and respectfully realign the timeline and tasks with my co-curator, without any assumptions and always believing in her capabilities. I’ve come to understand that leadership isn’t about control; it’s about creating a space where everyone can shine.

Final Thoughts

From self-doubt to persistence, from meltdown to being seen, this journey taught me one of life’s most important lessons: Never underestimate yourself, and never underestimate the power of small actions.

If you’re also a mom, or you often feel like “you’re not good at anything”, I want to share my story with you: Even if it’s slow, even if it’s imperfect, just take the first step. You’ll discover that you can go much further than you ever imagined. 

After Story

The days are long,

But the years are short

--Reflection on my 32th birthday & 4th birthday for my son

Turning 32, I’ve come to feel the

Years slip away before we know it.

On my birthday, I spoke with two women in their seventies.

Both said the same thing almost identically,

“Enjoy your time with your kdis. Spend as much time as you can – really engaging with them.

Because before you know it, time just flies.”

And that struck me.

Because at seventy,

What truly remains?

Money?

You can't take it with you to the grave.

Ego? Reputation?

You may enjoy them for a season.

But they will fade eventually as you grow old.

When the stage lights dim, what stays?

Only memories.

At the end of life, 

when everything begins to rewind, what will we see?

A childhood wrapped in love, "someone," 

a youth striving to become and then, 

the long middle stretch, the juggling between work and family, ambition and exhaustion, dreams and diapers.

In those final moments, 

perhaps we'll regret not spending more time

leaving good memories for our children.

Not taking that trip with our family.

Not doing the things we longed for but postponed, always telling ourselves we were just.

"surviving."

At the most recent gathering with my middle school classmates,

one of them, also a mother, laughed and said to me,

"Even with your education degree, you still end up taking care of kids."

That comment stayed with me.

Many people are confused about this: there is no dichotomy between

being highly educated and being a mother.

Yet people insist there is.

It assumes that people with education and intellect should sit in offices,

earning money, producing, achieving.

But not staying home, not slowing down.

But what if the real wisdom lies in understanding that life's value isn't measured by output,

but by presence?

That raising a child, nurturing a home,

or simply being here attentively

might be the most profound form of education there is?

The days are long,

but the years are short.

And when we finally stand

at the end of our own story,

we might realize that

the things that truly mattered

were never the things that

made us "successful,"

but the moments that made us alive.

About the Writer

Ziwei, a typical “small-town striver” turned journalist in Beijing for three years, I later saved up to pursue a graduate degree in Education—specializing in Leadership Studies—in Canada. I am now based in Victoria, British Columbia.

Having spent a year studying in the Middle East, I developed a deep understanding of intercultural communication. In recent years, my interests have expanded to sustainability and feminism. Currently, I’m on a gap year, embracing full-time motherhood.

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/ziweiluo/