becoming,

I’ve always struggled with the contradictory nature of my identity and experience. The physical spaces I grew in changed faster than I could develop an understanding of them. My values and responsibilities have been shaped destroyed and reformed by so many people and places that make home. 

From my grandparents in India, who see me as the last bearer of our family name, to my parents, whose perspectives evolve daily as they grapple to balance modernity with tradition, and to friends I grew up with in rural Indian boarding schools alongside those I’ve made here in college over the last two years. 

These contrasting perspectives have continuously shaped—and often conflicted with—my own developing sense of identity. In a time and space like the United States today, it’s important for us all to remember the community, home, family, and memory that form our identities. 

What freedoms do we allow and the limits we impose upon ourselves in expression and choosing how we wish to be represented? We share so much, from everyday tasks like cooking a meal to the profound emotions that define us, like love. The human experience is marked by both unity and uniqueness.

As I continue to find my place in our world, I strive to embrace these contradictions and find confidence and love for all the elements that make me, me.