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Museum Grade

Seeing the gorgeous art work of Bisa Bulter made me think about how people express themselves through their choice of clothing and jewelry. When I first came to America, I wore my saris to Walmart until I came to realize that as a new arrival to the country, I should focus on blending in instead of standing out in a grocery store. There is a time and place to show pride in my ethnic roots and heritage but do that while shopping for produce was misguided. Then I started working and it made even more sense to blend so people would hear me and not just get distracted by my attire. And so began the process of shedding my identity over the years to the point I am invisible in a crowd because I am very much like the average. Even today, I feel like the real me when I wear a sari and ethnic jewelry, when I can be colorful like the plumage of a tropic bird, my eyes look alive with kajal and my face with a bindi. 

Yet, for very large chunks of the last couple of decades, I have lived not feeling and looking like the real me. My desi friends and relatives find their escape in their parties where they do get to show up in beautiful Indian clothes and jewelry. Sometimes, a visit to the temple can be a venue to do that as well. I always experienced a sense of entrapment in both places - it was like playing a role on stage. A big costume party with props that are meant to invoke the home country - food, music, deities and more. This is not real like waiting for a bus at the stop on the way to work, wearing a sari like most other women and for all that to be the average. Bisa Bulter's amazing quilts, the colors and the energy do represent the real life of a people. In their natural milieu it would be average, not worthy of going up on the wall of a museum. Such are the very small sacrifices people must make to make a new home in a country that they were not born in.

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