MEET SOBHANA JAYA-MADHAVAN

I was born in Malaysia and grew up in India. I had a typical middle-class happy childhood in Southern India, mostly in my home province Kerala. Both my parents wanted to go to university but they couldn’t afford it. They were determined that their children would be university graduates. Their decision to send me India to study at a convent boarding school at the tender age of five changed my life forever. My parents were progressive and my dad had a big influence on me because he was a feminist at heart. My parents expected the same for my sister and me as for my brother, which shaped the culture of the family. My father cooked, cleaned, and he did everything, so when I was young I presumed that is how all men were. I was very fortunate to have a loving family that gave me much freedom and appreciated me. At 51, I have a loving family, great friends, colleagues and most importantly, two sons who appreciate me and motivate me to be the best I can be.

I think inner strength is what gets us through life. While we are all born with inner strength, our early experiences often influence our discovery of it. If people are constantly telling you that women are weaker than men and that women can’t do as much as men, women are meant to suffer and so on, then you often end up believing in that narrative. We are doing a lot for women once they become adults. There are many movements and initiatives but I think it’s a little too late. How do we get to it from the moment girls are born? From their toys, their clothes and the early experiences we give them? How are we teaching mutual respect in the classrooms? I feel that the best gift we can give ourselves and others at a young age is education and positive scripts–scripts that teach us to respect, be brave, feel equal and good in our own skin.

MEET SEEMI GHAZI

I’m 54 years old, I was born in London, England. My Dad was completing his master’s degree in Political Science at the London School of Economics. When I was 31/2 we moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts. My dad was doing his PhD. We lived in an amazing place called the Centre of Study of World Religions, which was at Harvard and was founded by my Dad’s mentor William Campbell Smith, who was a great scholar of religion. It was an exciting time, it was the late 60s–early 70s. When you went out to Harvard Square, you’d encounter the Black Panthers, feminist pamphleteers, Hare Krishna’s, you name it. It was a vibrant place to grow up. When I was 16, I was living in the suburbs of Chicago with my parents and my 4 siblings. I was the eldest daughter. I had two worlds. There was the world of my family and my home. I had a world of friends that were South Asian mostly, who were Muslim that I was connected to through a strong, vibrant mosque community, it’s called the Muslim Community Centre, it’s one of the oldest most important American Muslim institutions. We were there every Sunday.

I’ve had 3 or 4 miscarriages–before and after my daughter and son were born. Some of them were early, some of them were late. I think a thing I learned between each of those experiences is that I was able to own the process and was able to be there. To give birth to that child and hold it. Sometimes it was so small, like a seahorse. The last one before I had my son was a perfectly formed baby boy. They’re so tiny, and so perfect. It’s incredible. I feel so whole and healed about it and I think it’s because I really took my time and I honored the process. I held them in my hands and I prayed over them. I wrapped them in white cloth–which is what we do as Muslims–and there’s a place where I buried them all out in nature. A place that is special to me that I can go visit.

Each of those times, people would often say, “Seemi, you’re being so strong.” I didn’t feel like I was being strong. I just felt carried in those moments and felt that the veil between this world and all the other worlds that are unseen became so thin and so fine. I’ve never felt the presence of the beyond so palpably.

MEET RAVINDER DHADLI

My name is Ravinder. My nickname is Romy. I’m 54 years old. I have 3 kids, a husband to look after and a full time job. My job is demanding in terms of time and labour. I’m a self-made person. I came here when I was only 19 years old on my own in 1984. I came from Haryana, India. I graduated and obtained a Bachelor’s degree. On the last day of my exams I flew from New Delhi to Vancouver. I’ve had a long journey in Canada. I’ve spent more than half of my life here. I didn’t have any help or support from my parents or in-law’s side to buy a house, support myself and raise my family but I persevered. Growing up was like a sweet dream. I was the only daughter of my parents and I had 2 younger brothers. My parents loved me a lot. As I look back, I realize I’m lucky as my parents weren’t typical for the time. They gave me freedom and opportunities to learn and grow. It was a good experience. In the older times, female children weren’t desirable. Despite this mentality of the time, my parents were broad-minded and gave me opportunities to have good schooling and make a life for myself.

I’m not afraid of anything. Whatever is going to happen in your life is going to happen. Everyday is a challenge, but everyday is also a new day. But, beyond the day-to-day responsibilities of everyday life, there’s another passion and person in me. I’m me. There’s another Romy there. I’m my own personality. I like my own way, my own freedom. I like to be respected. I like to be loved. I would like to grow. I want to be something and someone, too. Once I finish all my responsibilities, I want to focus on the things I couldn’t complete while doing daily chores, like, further studies or a business where I can be recognized not just as a mother of someone or a wife of someone, but rather, as just Ravinder, just Romy.

MEET RAJ ARNEJA

I am a 50-year-old mother of 2 and I’ve done a lot of things in my life. I was born and brought up in Canada, and I started working very early on–every summer in the berry fields until I was 16. I’ve always been very feisty. If I think of finishing something, I’ll complete it. I won’t look back. I’m a go-getter. That’s my personality. Growing up in New Westminster was tough. It was a racist world then, but, I lived in a really happy household. It was like Grand Central Station in our house, where people would first arrive from India to our house and my dad would help them settle in the country and get jobs. I believe in doing a lot of seva (selfless service), probably because of the values my Dad and Sikhism have instilled in me. I have a good platform where I can do that because of the company we own. I lead the community engagement philanthropy sector of our company. It’s not just about cutting a cheque, it’s about going there, making sure that it’s a fit for our company to sponsor, be a real part of our support. What I do is very important to me.

We tried to conceive but couldn’t. My husband and I wanted to adopt, but we went through the regular channel of conceiving. There is a stigma about adopting a child that isn’t your blood relative in the South Asian community. When that didn’t work, at age 29, I took his power of attorney in one hand and a bag full of baby clothes in another and I flew off to India. I basically went to numerous hospitals in Delhi and gave my name. There were no cell phones, no internet, I was driving around, giving my name and my aunt’s landline number and said if there is any abandoned child, please call me. I got a call 3 weeks later, and that was my son. I managed to bring him home, but I wasn’t sure of the process of adoption, so I had to face all this and get consultation from people. Every little step of the way was a challenge for me but was determined to do it and I did it. I got his adoption papers sorted out, I got a passport for him, I got a visa for him, and I brought him home after 3 months. Fast forward 4 years, I did the same thing for my daughter. My husband was with me that time, but we already knew about the processes. I’ve written a book about this in much more detail, that is going to be published, hopefully, at the end of the year.

MEET RAGINI KAPIL

I was born in India to parents who lived in Fiji. My sister and brother were born in Fiji. We came here when I was one to a little town called Nelson. We were the first Fijian family there. I’m a fifth-generation educator. My grandfather started schools in Fiji and actually helped the country advance in literacy. I identify as being Canadian in my very inner self, but, I always feel like an outsider in both the Canadian and the Indian community. When we grew up, there were so few immigrants of colour. Growing up here I felt that it wasn’t a desirable thing to be brown.

I believe I was the first, and still one of the only South Asian female principals in Delta. I was charged with the responsibility of starting the traditional schools. This was difficult because I don’t believe in traditional education. It failed me and it has failed a lot of kids. I’m proud that the three traditional schools in Delta are built on my belief structure, which is to instil traditional values and manners while actually using the very latest in educational approaches to teach children and invite them into their learning, to gear learning to them.

“Himmat” to me means you don’t give up on your dreams, no matter what gets in your way. And sometimes the things that get thrown in your way are so insurmountable that it seems that the world is conspiring against you, to say no, no, no. Not you. Not now. Not this. And you just have to keep on going and celebrating every success. I used to make fairy tale movie, with my students. I loved acting, but I turned it off for myself when I was still a child. About eight years ago, I began doing improv classes. This led me to embrace my creative side again, and since then, I have realized a dream of becoming a screenwriter, actor, and director. My first short film was shown recently at the Vancouver International South Asian Film Festival.

During the last four years, life has taken some challenging turns. One of the things I learned in rehab while recovering from long-term injuries to my back and my head, was gratitude. I am literally right now trying to wake up every morning and write down what I’m grateful for. I’m building on the gratitude and not focusing on the pain or limitations or anything that holds me back. Instead, I’m choosing to always move forward.

MEET KIRAN DHALIWAL

I’m 41 years young. I’m a lawyer, I’ve done this for about 15 years now. I come from a large family. I grew up in Mission and the Okanagan. I am still someone who is learning a lot about myself, but I think I’m at that point where I have myself figured out in terms of what my values are. It’s about building on who I am and growing into aspects about myself I want to explore. I want to figure out what my alignments are around values put around us, especially trying to balance the Punjabi part of me and where I am right now as a lawyer and woman. I’m thinking about my spirituality and it’s something I am trying to work on these days to figure out what I believe. I find it very hard to connect with South Asians at times. I sometimes feel like I’m an outsider and it might just be that they’ve had to face things I’ve never had to face. I never struggled with confidence or identity, and I feel people from the Lower Mainland struggled with that more.

When I got divorced, I was no longer the good wife or good daughter-in-law. I was always the good daughter and there was a part of me that thought I let my parents and my siblings down. There is the idea in our community that if you’re divorced there’s something wrong with you. What is it about her that led to her divorce? And, it’s always the woman. I think it was added pressure which made me start feeling like I had to show up to events I didn’t want to go to. My Mom didn’t want to see me get into a funk and often made me go to these events. There was sudden pressure on her to prove people’s assumptions about me wrong. For me, it was getting to the point where you realize you can’t be a service to someone else if you can’t take care of yourself–physically, mentally, and emotionally. If you don’t feed these aspects of your life, you can’t connect with anyone. That wisdom only came to me from being single. I don’t know many South Asian women who are able to define themselves for who they are.

We always talk about people losing themselves in relationships or friendships because it’s so easy to do. It’s so much easier to have clear definition of what someone else wants you to be. But it’s really hard to figure out what you’re meant to be. To say to yourself, this is the life I want to lead and to put parameters on that is the hard part. I don’t think we’re taught to look inside ourselves that way.

MEET JENNIFER REDDY

My parents moved here from Fiji in the 1970s. Growing up in Canada is a pretty big experience–at times it’s hard to know if I fit here or not. It’s been a long-term identity crisis in trying to find my place while giving myself permission to sew together my values. As a school board trustee in Vancouver, I feel like I have a real opportunity to be a bridge for a lot of individuals who feel like systems may not be in place for them. My ancestors were displaced and brought as indentured labourers to Fiji. My parents took a risk moving to Canada. We grow roots wherever the hell we can and that’s how we are wired. For me, it’s all about: how can I give back to the community meaningfully unless I know my history and the history of where I live? I think that’s something I took for granted growing up to immigrant parents in the East Kootenays not knowing I was on traditional Ktunaxa territory, not knowing what it means to be a settler, a daughter of immigrants, and the responsibility that goes with that.  

My role as a Vancouver School Board trustee is recognizing that education is a very powerful tool. You have to use it very mindfully because it can be used to oppress or liberate, depending on how we use the tool. I think that for me, recognizing what I don’t know is an important perspective that I can bring to the table. I can hit a lot of identity and intersecting criteria for people, but that doesn’t make me a representative. Being open-minded, listening, and showing up is something I admire about my mentors

 in leadership positions, so I am trying to model that while bringing my identities. As individual people, we’re so dynamic, we’re so heterogenous... to think that I can be a representative of all women of colour… that’s inaccurate, that’s incomplete. The biggest challenge for me is figuring out how to balance and how to have a spot at the table as well as making that space available for other people to fill in the blanks.

MEET JAG NAGRA

I grew up in Maple Ridge and went to a predominantly Caucasian high school. It wasn't until I was older that I noticed that I was one of very few Indians in the school.  I was very shy, very awkward and very unsure of myself. I didn’t know that I was gay at that point. I just always knew I didn't quite like boys the way other girls did. Once I started figuring it out, I was in denial and I was really scared. I had such a good relationship with my family and worried that I would be disowned. I didn't think anyone would ever understand.  How can an Indian person be gay?  I lived my life thinking I was the only brown queer person in the world.

I think a lot of education needs to happen, especially with the older generation. My Mom thought she had done something wrong during her pregnancy to make me gay, so it took a lot of explaining about what it all means. My parents have a lot of strength for coming out for me to their extended family. This is their life, too. When you come out of the closet, you’re not coming out once in your life, you’re coming out for the rest of your life…to your co-workers, to new people that you meet. It’s not really a burden but I’ve mostly left it to my parents to deal with their extended families.

A relative recently asked my Mom how my daughter Jaya was doing, and because my parents don’t have anything negative to say about us, what else can anyone really say? My parents are fully accepting. They’re so proud to be grandparents. But if they had been angry or had been asking people to find a doctor to “fix” me, of course everyone else would have had a negative connotation about this. They’re setting the example.

MEET GURDIP DHALIWAL

I studied until Grade 10 in India. I came to Canada in 1975. I got married in 1977. In 1978, I gave birth to my son. I started working in a cannery at night and a farm during the day in 1980. I did this for 12 years. I learned English working at a Japanese farm from a colleague. We used to work 12 hours a day, communicating in broken English. I used to work all of the hard-labour farming machines–in the heat, in the snow. In 1991, I decided to train to be a care aid. I didn’t know any English. When I went to Vancouver, they took my interview and said my communication was good enough. As you know the control issues of Punjabi men, my husband and family refused to support me with my tuition. I finally gave my fees, but I was worried about my training being incomplete because work at the cannery would start in a few months. I knew my training would be incomplete. So, I drove from Abbotsford to Vancouver every day for 4 months, taking full-time classes. When my practicum happened, I was lucky enough for it to happen in White Rock. I was eager to learn. When they gave me credit, they said they couldn’t give me 100% because of my communication but they gave me 95% because of my diligence. Then, my husband left. We didn’t have much. We were in debt. He had control over all the finances. Finally, we stood on our own feet because I worked 2 jobs. I worked a night shift at a private nursing home that paid very little and worked the farms during the day. Nights, evenings and weekends I worked at the nursing home. I did double shifts for 16 years.

I’ve learned to never disrespect yourself. I always say I’m uneducated, but I now know I shouldn’t do that. There’s always an opportunity to learn something no matter how old you are.

If you stand your ground, nobody can throw you down. Every illness has a cure. There are so many treatments available for all kinds of illnesses. Never look for sympathy. Stand on your own two feet and never do anything to disrespect who you are as a person. Finally, always remember to stand with the truth, no matter how hard that may seem. When you support the wrong thing, you become wrong. Speaking one lie can unravel so many lies, and it just goes on and on. Be strong and be true to yourself. When you need to do something for the sake of the truth, you need to do it. I firmly believe that sometimes, money won’t solve your problems, but your sense of character will.

MEET FRIBA REZAYEE

I’m very lucky to be born in a very modern Afghan family. I was born and raised in Kabul, Afghanistan. We are hazara, an ethnic minority. I was born a very hard-headed rebellious child. I had ideas on how to fight for my rights and how to have equal rights among my brothers and among other boys. I’ve always been interested in sports and wanted to see equal opportunity for girls. Growing up and seeing the injustice of how women are treated, that part of me made me a big women’s rights fighter.

My love for Judo goes back to 2000 when Muhammed Ali’s daughter, Laila Ali, was fighting in the championships. We were refugees in Pakistan at the time. I was watching her match and I was very young at that time. I told my entire family that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to start boxing. I was the only girl in the country boxing. People would send threats to my family, telling my parents that they shouldn’t send their daughters into sports. They said I was a bad example and a bad role model for other girls–that I could mislead and corrupt other Muslim girls. But, I persevered. In 2004, I became the first Afghan girl in any sport to participate in the Olympics. For me it’s important that women are empowered and can choose their careers and choose what they would like to make out of their lives. I want others to have the opportunity to choose and not be forced by their families or cultures. My advocacy for Afghan women's rights to education continues.

MEET ANITA LAL

I feel my life has been very segmented. The first 10 years of my life was a normal, stable childhood with my parents, me, my older brother, my two younger sisters and my Biji. We lived in Quesnel BC, where my dad was a millworker and my mom was a homemaker and head of the PTA. It was a pretty solid childhood, we lived on a small hobby farm. We swam in little creeks in the summertime and built igloos in the winter. And then my parents passed away. The next 20 years were full of a lot of disruption, instability and responsibility. I took on the role of the guardian and caretaker. I look back now and don’t know if this was always a part of my personality or if it developed due to the circumstances of my life. These responsibilities have kept me grounded and focused. We bounced back and forth between family and foster care for a few years. That was a struggle because we were also split apart for a little while. I moved to Abbotsford in grade 9, and it was a culture shock. But that experience definitely has contributed to the work I do in community now. In my mid-20s, we lost my brother and Biji, leaving just us 3 sisters. Resilient. That’s how a friend described me once.  It’s not a trait I wish people to have to develop, but I am grateful that we are. In my 30s, I spent time learning who I am, what my value is, what my strengths are.  In my 40s, I’m facing my weaknesses and my hurts and learning to forgive and be gentle–and at the same time celebrate myself.

We all have reasons to be negative and it’s easy. When someone’s positive, it adds so much to a person’s character. I choose to see life through a positive lens. There are a lot of bad things that have happened and will happen, but a lot of good things have also happened and will happen. You face the bad and the ugly, work through it and you move forward. I’ve learned through all of this that patience, resilience, and just staying focused on the positive are vital. You can put your time and energy into the negative but it’s such a waste. So many things can throw you off but I’m learning that I don’t have to respond. I don’t have to care about everything that happens. I don’t have to fix or own things that are not mine. I’m still working on that. I feel positive about where my life is going. It’s all about opportunities and not letting my fears hold me back.  I’m changing some deep belief systems that I have and surrounding myself with the right vibes. It’s all about the vibes.