Storytelling Our Most Potent Superpower

i grew up in two cultures

american and south asian

both have taught me some key lessons

the seminal one

they’re my people and they’re others

my people look like me

my people speak like me my people live

their lives like me

my people are citizens like me

i was born in america which makes me

american

my parents from india which makes some

claim i’m indian

i wear this turban sport this beard

which identifies me as somebody who

follows the sikh religion

to many who do not know that religion

they claim to know my origin story

better than i do

and

as a teenager

i got to see my birth certificate for

the first time while getting my password

renewed

and i got to notice my race for the

first time

according to the department of human

services in washington dc i’m white

i know what all of you thinking he’s not

white

[Music]

apparently

white people have this skin color

and black people have the skin color

race is one of the most

incredible and also human-made stories

we live in this world

and one of those incredible stories

is a story of black and white people

a story

that has been used to subjugate

kill

enslave millions of people across

centuries

this is the power of stories behind

labels and words we live by every day

stories

created out of our perceived differences

we are falling prey

to the plots of these stories

including me

as a young boy

i spent part of my childhood in india

with my parents

and i remember

some of my childhood friends

referring to africans as hapshis

hapshi in my native tongue punjabi means

monkey

i knew this was not true but i did not

correct my friends

my loved ones and family to this day

refer to babies as being beautiful

with special emphasis on their lighter

skin tone

my father

took out matrimonial ads for me without

me knowing about them in newspapers

seeking fair-skinned women for me

years later as an adult i was house

hunting in new york city

with my british born and bred wife who

by the way i found on my own

i confided in her

that i did not want to live in

predominantly black neighborhoods

because i associated those neighborhoods

with being unsafe

drug-prone and less educated

my wife did not see black people with

the same lands

as providence would have it we ended up

finding our first home in harlem

not because i overcame my stereotypes

but because we could afford that home

within our means

we live a few blocks from the home of

the famed and beloved early

20th century american writer ralph

ellison

his classic work is titled invisible man

i read this book in sophomore year in

college while i was going through an

intense identity crisis of my own

i’m an american

but everybody seemed to stare at me

strangers took liberty to call me names

genie

clown

some even laughed on my face

i felt like an outsider at ho

so i took off my turban

cut off my unshorn hair

shaved off my beard and i spent the next

decade trying to find my place in

america

pursuing dreams

navigating different identities

trying to fit in

to become invisible

eventually i found my place after 10

years

i chose for the first time in my life

to follow that religion i was born into

the sikh religion

that i finally understood

ask you to stand out for values it

cherishes

equality

freedom and justice

by now i was living

a few miles north

and working three miles north of new

york city

the month was august

the year was 2001.

we all know what happened on september

the 11th 2001.

it was a tragedy that was to have a

global impact

at home

it was one of our most vulnerable of

moments

we felt grief

anger

anxiety

patriotism

and a sense of retribution

so we went to wars

abroad and here at home

turbines

beards

and darker skin became new symbols of

anti-americanism

brown people

from arab

jewish

muslim

sikh

christian hindu and hispanic backgrounds

became targets of bigotry and

intolerance

some like myself

have been told repeatedly for the last

20 years my fellow americans

go back home

i’ve been called many many names

in those 20 years that changed by the

news cycle

my first response to this violence and

actions and words

is anger and frustration a lot of it

but deep inside i could relate to the

feeling of fellow americans who see in

me

the other

i spent part of my childhood

in india with my parents

and

there was a political conflict raging on

between the sick ethnic minority and the

hindu majority state

thousands were killed

on october 31 1984

following the assassination of the

indian prime minister by two sikh

bodyguards

a genocidal killing spree spread across

cities in india

six were hunted by their turbans and

long hair

countless were burnt alive

we had a mob that came to our home

on november 1st 1984.

we were some of the lucky ones

to survive and escape death that day

in the aftermath of this genocidal

massacre

i saw news headlines

announcing the killing of

hindus

at the hands of sikh militants

as a young boy

i relished in the killing of

fellow innocent humans

i realized my potential

as a young boy

to justify the pain and suffering of

those

i labeled as other

in the aftermath of

the attacks of 9 11 weeks months years

later

this realization was my guide

six

and fellow brown americans

were assaulted

arrested

driven off highways and killed by fellow

americans

just for looking like an outsider

in moments of fear

uncertainty and vulnerability

we accentuate

the otherness of fellow humans

we see them as

unidimensional characters

not one of us foreigners

maybe even the enemy

what we do in these tender moments of

vulnerability

is what gets to define us

and our character

it’s a struggle

it requires us to

reflect

and look in the mirror every day

and take stock of our actions

it takes courage

ten years ago

i had a vision of a new american

superhero

one with a turban and beard

taking on intolerance and bigotry

i illustrated this superhero

as captain america

fiona abudh

a photographer based in new york city

spent almost a year trying to convince

me to don the uniform of captain america

i’m skinny as you can see

i’ve been a perpetual outsider in the

eyes of many i did not want to stand out

any more

than i already do

on a beautiful summer day in june 2013

i stepped out as captain america on the

streets of new york city

i was nervous

sweaty palms

not knowing how fellow

americans were going to receive me

it turned out to be one of the most

amazing days or dare i say mission of my

life

i got hugs from strangers

nypd officers took photos of me

i got access to an fdny truck

i even

got invited to a stranger’s wedding

this is the power

of fictional stories

one moment stands out from that day

i was posing by this rock in central

park

and this young boy middle schooler

he saw me silently for 10 minutes

and he finally breaks the silence and

goes

what are you doing

i’m captain america for the day

no you’re not

why not

because you’re not white

my birth certificate would have been

great to work at in that moment

but i don’t carry that with me all the

time i should

so i told the kid

listen captain america is a fictional

character

he was created in 1941 we’re in the 21st

century captain of america can be black

hispanic and even with a turbine and

beard

he thought for a moment and goes

black yes hispanic maybe turban beards

now

this kid was being honest and authentic

he was transparent in his vulnerability

to pervasive stereotypes in american

culture i parted ways with him by

telling him look i’m not i’m not

offended by you or your words

but for the rest of your life you’re

going to have this image of me

skinny

glasses turban beard dressed up as

captain america which you will never be

able to voluntarily delete from your

head

[Applause]

[Music]

[Applause]

this young american harbors the

potential

like you

me and everyone to let shallow

stereotypes

fictional narrative and lack of

awareness about each other’s stories

guide us into a world

witness to rampant bias prejudice and

racist acts

we need to create new stories that

reflect our uniqueness and differences

not in opposition to each other but as

dynamic ever-evolving selves working

towards a better version of who we are

the choice is ours every day

to manifest

our bias self

or

our superior self

thank you

[Music]

[Applause]