Third Culture
My cultural experience has always been multi-modal. From my move to the USA, to my preference for the company of fellow immigrants, to the current work I do as an Art Teacher in East San Jose. I have always found inspiration not just from the cultures, but from the unique way they interact and accommodate one another without blending into a uniform or homogenous experience. Blended culture, to me, is like watching oil and water attempting to coexist- it begins with turbulence as the molecules arrange themselves and fight to find their fit. They eventually settle into pools of oil forced afloat by the water. In a similar fashion, my “3rd culture” is the moderately successful mixing of Middle Eastern and American societies. Like the oil and the water it took some inner turmoil and a crisis of identity before the two found a way to coexist within me.
For this piece I wanted to attempt to mimic this cultural blend with two cultures that I have great appreciation for- but no first hand experience to guide me. Using a traditional Swedish glass blowing technique - the Graal - I embarked on a story telling adventure inspired by the Aboriginal Australian Dream Scape Paintings.
As I carved the cold glass I practiced a mindful retelling of my migration to the United States. From hearing news of the upcoming move from my parents, saying goodbye to my peers, and the final night at my grandmothers house. I vividly remember not crying- a huge feat for an emotional child- until that last night before we said goodbye and left. Though we giggled and joked with my Aunt on the way to the airport, I remembered the heavy feeling of knowing things will never be the same again. I had a deep understanding of the situation I was in and the enormous journey I was about to embark on- without the maturity or vocabulary to express it. It truly felt like a lucid dream; heavy and intense emotions without the ability to communicate them. I can still remember the sensation of the warm pita in my hand that my grandma gave me “in case I got hungry on the way”. While I never did eat my snack during the twenty minute drive to the airport- the chalkiness of the flour and the warmth of the dough is one of the most vivid memories I have till this day.
And so the story was told. For every one of these memories a dot scarred the cold glass in my hand- scratching the vibrant outer layer of the Graal and revealing the darkness beneath. I carved in the cold shop of the San Jose State Glass program into the wee hours of the night. The only sound was the humming of the grinding tool vibrating against the glass. The only sensation was the wetness of my hands as errand tears mixed with the water lubricating Dremel tool.
This was and arguably still is the strongest and most significant piece of art I have ever made. It felt like years of therapy channeled into this small vessel- heavy with meaning and also just, heavy. Like most of my work, I knew that the day will come where this piece will find its home- though I was uncharacteristically reluctant to let it go.
As I began my Masters Program I experienced some intense hurdles involving my grasp of academic English and my ability to write in a different way. My friend, “J” saw me struggling to stay afloat and took me under her wing. An avid reader and a published author, “J” helped me push my writing abilities to the next level and I credit her for much of my academic success. As the hurdles began to shrink I was able to see just how much of a positive influence she has been in my life outside of her call to action to help me graduate. She was a pillar of light during a dark time, and I knew that I had to communicate my immense gratitude in some way.
“J” has also discovered a love for Australia in her many travels, and it was this realization that lead to the decision to gift her this piece. It felt as if I gave a part of myself away, and I couldn’t have picked a better home than “J'“s. Tears were shed, hugs were had, and the piece remains in her care today.