When Barak Obama first campaigned, some were disgruntled as his ancestors lacked the history of slavery as theirs. Their matching skin tones was not enough of a bond—communal suffering has the power to bind. Trauma becomes the hallmark with which they recognized one another, as with the numeric sequences on the camp survivors.

feature image: ‘Transit’ by Vala B Shende Made up of thousands of steel discs welded together, the work depicts 22 laborers in a life size truck. The rear view mirror of the truck displays footage of roadways giving the illusion of movement, but as Shende says ‘they aren’t really going anywhere.’ The piece which was conceived as a comment on migration and urbanization holds even more relevance today amid the continuing migrant crisis we find ourselves in. Is the truck carrying laborers into the city or are they in-fact being forced to leave? Shende’s father was a scrap metal merchant and the metal discs have become his signature, his language as he calls it. The shape to him representative of molecules  and the reflective ability allowing the viewer to see himself in the pieces. above image: from the book Watan, which explores both sides of the Punjab by Graciela Magnoni. “One thing that was clear to me after so many trips to Punjab is that after 75 years of separation, both sides still miss each other and long for connection.”

What is intriguing is no matter how much we orient ourselves differently than our forbearers, we seem to be in a perpetual state of ‘dis-orientation,’ relentlessly trying to capture our cultural legacies. This was evidenced by a friend’s Chicagoan father, who fiercely devoured news of India while unaware of American breaking news headlines. Contrarily, another, having friendships that spanned decades, yearned for a Caucasian fraternity in Toronto.
A quiet reminder that acceptance does not always translate to belonging.
Now a private literary club member, one wonders if he is taunting the WASP majority to look beyond his skin color and recognize their similarities.

With tears welling up, my brother’s mother-in-law once shared how children called her DP a “displaced person” in school. The Irony being she is Canadian-born to Slovanian parents and phenotypically white. And yet six decades later, her pain conveys she was never Canadian enough.

above image: ‘Burden’ by Rupy C. Tut. “Silence is a burden women have carried for too long. In this work, I reflect on their silence, their story, and their convenient absence from the narrative we are told.”

When young, the metaphor of Canada being a tossed salad was widely taught. Theoretically, our diverse identities are celebrated, the parts making up the whole mosaic. Though since coined in the 20s, studies illuminate the mosaic is not as horizontal as the diverse architectural figures in city landscapes but relatively vertical where certain groups preside and are overrepresented in influential decision-making positions.

Caught in the cultural shift, new immigrants must decide who they are.
Some stay tethered to their native country, while others’ penchant for assimilation never diminishes.