What challenges have you faced as a nonbinary Sikh person?

People think I don't exist and shouldn't exist. Things are a bit better now, especially as I'm older and have some level of stability, but people feel very entitled to your existence. I've been called a terrorist on the streets, in the dating apps. People fetishize my culture as something for them to play with, usually without my consent. Other Sikhs have tried to shame me back into conformity. It hasn't worked, but I think it's something that will always be there in my lifetime. It's not my unhappiness that makes me face these challenges. It's a society that wants me to be unhappy for who and how I am that creates these challenges.

Who does your support system consist of?

My support system revealed itself to me, I didn't go looking for it. These are the people who, at my times of need, really took seriously what it meant to practice vand chhakna in their own ways. Because they shared their lives and their love with me. Underlying all of this support though, I think the biggest boon over the past few years, as a praxis, has been listening to my body and soul. I realized I spent a lot of my life looking outwards for answers to things I was dealing with, when in fact, my body was telling me exactly what I needed.

What do you hope to bring to the queer community?

For myself, [what I interpret this question to be is:] "what does my existence contribute to the ongoing narrative of queerness?". Defiance. Thriving. Resurgences. Possibilities. These aren't foreign concepts to queer communities, but I think we sometimes forget our roots and people try to erase our roots. Queerness to me is not about wanting or needing approval. I told a friend that what I'd love is for the wall that is being built between Sikhi and queerness to come down, because it is being put there. And my friend asked me, "so people can come over?" and I hesitated. I don't believe forced integration in this regard is what's needed after centuries of anti queerness. I want the wall down so I can breathe. I want people to have safe passage between our worlds. Because it's not necessarily a bad thing to have separate worlds. I think true communities bridge different worlds. Because if we remember these interconnections that do hold us together, then sharing in true community creates amazing new possibilities for the future. That's what I hope to contribute to that future. For the kiddos.



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Dakota is a poet, journalist, and right in the damn center of the Kinsey scale. Follow her on Twitter: @Likethestates.