Talking about migration would be talking about what happens with the crossing of boundaries. Boundaries of culture and climate, and boundaries of visibility, where a change in semantics can come to render what was invisible visible (an accent, perhaps a way of dressing, one’s values and ideas, the experience of being surveilled as an alien), while also allowing the migrant certain new freedoms to be invisible (anonymity where ‘nobody knows your name’, and certain kinds of agency one may not have enjoyed back home).
The book explores how gender plays out in public and private institutions like family, educational institutions, work and public spaces. It illustrates the multiplicity of ways in which people live gender and testifies that even if there are gender laws, in a just world there can be no gender outlaw.
यूँ तो विवाह और उससे जुड़े महिलाओं के ‘स्थान परिवर्तन’ को ‘प्रवसन’ का दर्ज़ा दिया ही नहीं जाता है, इसको एक अपरिहार्य व्यवस्था की तरह देखा जाता है जिसमें पत्नी का स्थान पति के साथ ही है, चाहे वो जहाँ भी जाए। पूर्वी एशियाई देशों में, १९८० के दशक के बाद से एक बड़ी संख्या में महिलाओं के विवाह पश्चात् प्रवसन का चलन देखा गया है जिन्हें ‘फॉरेन ब्राइड’ या विदेशी वधु के नाम से जाना जाता है। इन देशों की लिस्ट में भारत के साथ जापान, चीन, ताइवान, सिंगापुर, कोरिया, नेपाल जैसे कई देशों के नाम हैं। यदि विवाह से जुड़े प्रवसन को कुल प्रवसन के आकड़ों के साथ जोड़ा जाए तो शायद ये महिलाओं का सबसे बड़ा प्रवसन होगा।
Emmi Kurowski (Brigitte Mira), a widow in her sixties, walks into a bar to take shelter from the rain. She is met with hostile stares by a mixed group of Moroccan immigrants and Germans. As a joke, one of his friends challenges Ali (El Hedi ben Salem m'Barek Mohammed Mustafa), a young strapping Berber man, to ask her for a dance. He agrees, and thus begins a romance across the taboo lines of race and age.
The women she draws, flanked by a mix of traditional South Asian motifs and totems of youthful American culture, are not hiding their stubble. They sit, stand and kneel in poses that do anything but hide their hair, as they smoke cavalierly behind a box of 'mithai' or cruise across a roller rink. More often than not, her female subjects are seen legs and arms outstretched, faces calm, cool and collected amid a backdrop of saturated purples, greens and oranges.
If I asked you to define yourself, would you know how to respond? We like to think we are all complex individuals who can’t be reduced to descriptors, but often there are moments when we are forced to identify with something – to label ourselves Somali, black, queer, working class, Muslim or gender nonconforming. Everything on that list applies to me. It may be that none of them apply to you, but does that matter?
To all the American daughters of South Asian immigrants: Have you ever felt that you just can’t be a Good Girl? Your parents and South Asian community have likely tried drilling in you that Good Girls follow the path of academic excellence, a well-paying job (doctor, lawyer, or engineer), marriage to a well-paid Desi man (preferably a doctor), and then a happy house with kids. Obedience to parents, no dating (at least not while a student), and virginity until marriage are absolutes.
“Yo existo. I exist,” asserts Julio Salgado’s self-portrait drawn with wings that give him identity. Salgado was eleven years old when he crossed the border from Mexico to the United States where he remains an undocumented resident. Risking arrest and deportation if detected, Julio makes art about his experiences of being a queer and undocumented person of colour.