Hamid Khan: I came to the US 32 years ago and realised that for immigrants, there were always issues of identity, race and adjustment that kept popping up. At a structural level, however, US policies became more anti-immigrant in the ’80s and ’90s. There was demonising of certain communities. On the other hand, the size and number of the South Asian community also began to leave a greater impact on American society. These factors led us to examine ourselves and try to deal with matters as a community. To begin with, I reached out to friends and acquaintances — at that time, Greater Los Angeles had no forum for the South Asian community. Initially, these were simple conversations that had a multiplier effect. Along the way, we widened our scope and an organisation developed. That was the South Asian Network. The early days were interesting. You see, there is a certain level of expectation within immigrants. People largely migrate for economic reasons. There is always the question, “Why are we here?” We needed to talk about that collectively and create a common sense of South Asian identity. To do that, we had to forget homeland politics, regional identity and faithbased spaces. Initially there were reservations between people from different countries and backgrounds, but it was not a hard bridge to cross, because people were open to dialogue and working with a common cultural identity — whether it was language, food or celebrations. We realised early on that we could not operate in silos. Our approach had to be inter-sectional. Workers’ rights were a big part of what we focussed on: issues like minimum wage, fair working hours and compensation. Then there were cases of people being targeted because of race and religion, what was loosely called “hate crimes”, and other sorts of discrimination. In the 1980s there was a group that called itself Dot- Busters (from the bindi on the foreheads of Indian women), who went around targeting people of a certain community. Then, there were issues within the community such as domestic violence and homophobia (with people being rejected by family members for being gay). Over time, we have managed to influence some change. For example, earlier a survivor of domestic violence and abuse had to file a report in a public area in the police stations — there was little sensitivity in the process. We advocated for reform and as a result, the police department changed their policy and set aside a separate area. At a national level, we got really active post 9/11. There was a law that required young men over 16 years from some countries (especially Pakistan and Bangladesh) to register themselves. This led to massive deportation and disruption within families. So we advocated for change and the law was withdrawn. To me, it is important that South Asians, as a community, draw parallels with other “people of colour”. For the longest time, we had trouble thinking of ourselves as “non-white”. In the process of adapting, we took on some of the more negative aspects of the culture here. The term we used jokingly was “Honorary Caucasian”. Post 9/11, a lot of that changed. Looking at the social and institutional reaction to South Asians, a lot of people woke up and said “Oh God, we’re not white!” At SAN we have always interacted and worked with people from other races. It’s critical to broaden the scope of that bond which all immigrants share, and learn from each other. SAN has been around for 21 years and I have retired now. When I look at the South Asian reality now, I can’t say if things are better or worse. However, I feel that US history is steeped in the twin issues of economics and racism — take slavery as an example. And immigrants need to think about these issues. Looking ahead, I would love to see a multi generational sharing of our experiences and for it to get passed down as oral history. I feel that the biggest opportunity — and challenge — is for us to show “This is what a global community looks like”. There might be a universe of differences, but there is also a universe of similarities and we have to build on that.

Binna Chahal: I came to America right after I got married. From the beginning I had an interest in the immigrant community. I remember I was helping with a film, Roots in the Sand, based on the Indian-Mexican community. That was the first time that I got actively involved with issues of the diaspora. I’ve been involved with SAN from its inception. We tried to deal with basic issues in the community: language barriers, how to manoeuvre around the system, etc. The first meeting we had was open to the whole community and attendance slowly started going up. We’d have lively discussions between family members and individuals on issues that impacted them. For example, teenagers often wanted to know why they couldn’t date, and would ask their parents, “What is the point of you coming here if you have to follow the exact rules as you did back home?” Basically, it was an attempt to establish a new identity while keeping our roots intact. At SAN our basic belief was that there should be no discrimination — whether on the basis of gender, nationality, sexual orientation or religion. We had Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Sri Lankans, Nepalese and Bhutanese volunteers. As a group we stayed away from the complications of homeland politics, and I would say we’ve worked well so far. We work mainly within Southern California, but have partners in other states. Barring a few people, everybody volunteered their time. For example, in helping people understand the system on how to get medicare, we had a number of doctors who would give free time — I was one of them. Today we have three main programmes: a Civil Rights Unit (CRU), a Community Health Action Initiative (CHAI) and AWAZ, which deals with cases of domestic violence. SAN developed a solid reputation and so got a lot of funding (which has been tight since the global meltdown) from sources, including the government. Initially, government funding was allotted for ‘Asians’ and so was distributed between all Asians and Indians hardly got any. This was for a number of reasons, but also because people didn’t really show up for the census that was done routinely. So the question always was, “Where is your community? Who are you going to get funding for?” So we got people to take part in the census and then got funding. One of the stipulations of government funding was that we had to collect an equal amount from the community, which we managed. Since I first came here, I see more awareness within the community and more youngsters volunteering. There are people coming into public life as well and it was important for us to enter the political arena. Otherwise, there was this post-colonial attitude that kept us thinking “Gore ko chedo nahi”, (don’t mess with the white man) and keep doing your own work. Recently, we had a couple of people come down to talk to us from the White House, and they were Indian women. After 21 years, I retired from SAN this year, but will always be a volunteer. Mental health stays a priority for me and we have tried to educate the community about this issue. When I think about the future, it is with hope. Our aim was to change the way our younger generation thinks about the needs of the community. I think that has happened.