art

Yin’s Immigration Story – Tainan City, Taiwan to Acton, Massachusetts

by

Nine Generations

Yin can trace back her family’s history in Taiwan nine generations. She grew up the youngest of five children, and even though her family was not well off, she was the most spoiled. Her father read three newspapers a day and worked as a chemist for a wine company, so he was rarely home. 

“If I inherited anything from father, it is that I am pretty daring.” 

Yin’s father would often recite a haiku, which she translates: 

“I love life. I love food. So I’m going to eat blowfish – that would be the ultimate taste of my life.” (audio below)

Yin’s parents lived through Japan’s occupation of Taiwan. Consequently, they both spoke perfect Japanese and used it to communicate with each other. Yin, who didn’t learn the language, wasn’t able to understand. When Yin was a child, Taiwan was under Chinese control. Her school forced her to learn and speak Mandarin (Chinese). Today, Yin considers Chinese to be her intellectual language, and whereas Taiwanese is her emotional language. (audio below)

American Apples

Yin lived near a US military base that occupied the best beach in Tainan City. She knew little about America but quickly learned about the American dollar. It was incredible how much you could buy when you converted one dollar to Taiwan’s currency (NT). One item that she remembers being very expensive and sought-after growing up was the American apple. (audio below)

Yin studied English literature at a college in Taiwan. She met an American cultural anthropologist who was there researching, and they soon were married. After their marriage, he couldn’t find a full-time teaching job in Taiwan, so they moved to the United States.

“I wish we had stayed in Taiwan.” 

Suffocation

It was the day before Christmas 1982 when Yin arrived in Connecticut. Yin, age 24, and her husband moved in with his parents. 

Yin had “feelings of suffocation” when she witnessed the first heavy snow of her life. She tried to convince herself that this cold fluffy white stuff is harmless and saw other’s having fun in it, but reflects, “I don’t think I ever got rid of that feeling of suffocating.” (audio below)

Yin’s father-in-law was a well-respected lawyer. He made sure everyone in their small, predominantly white, Connecticut town knew that Yin was his daughter-in-law. In retrospect, she sees how much she struggled to fit in. Her husband’s family – affluent and educated -contrasted with her humble upbringing. Yin always felt like they were above her, and this feeling became a source of constant stress. When her parents visited Connecticut, they found her in-laws to be arrogant, and over time, Yin started to see what they had seen too.

Artistic Expression

From an early age, Yin was passionate about art, and in high school, she would make seal carvings on tiny stones. Still, her parents never supported her artistic aspirations.  

After getting settled in Connecticut, Yin started traveling to New York to study sculpturing at the National Academy of Design. She remembers her studies as being fulfilling and intensive. This experience made her believe that she could be an artist.  

His Depression

Yin’s husband, a Ph.D. in cultural anthropology, was always in and out of the United States consulting for international development projects. Aside from being away all the time, he had ongoing battles with depression, something Yin tried to understand, but could not. 

“I’m a very upbeat person. I had never known what depression means. I was dealing with his depression.”

They eventually moved to Ithaca, New York, so that her husband could earn a second Ph.D. at Cornell. Yin spent her days alone in the apartment, isolated and without friends. 

“Enjoying life became very hard.” 

Yin started a master’s degree in fine art at Cornell but she dropped out after a professor accused Yin of working too hard and exhausting the school’s resources. (audio below)

Above: Yin standing with her “Our Goddess” Sculpture

Nepal

Yin’s husband received an offer to work on an international development project with USAID (United States Agency for International Development) in Nepal. Yin encouraged him to take it. They spent five years in Tulsipur, where they had two children, and Yin spent a lot of time painting in the backyard. They had seven “servants,” who could take care of the children, giving Yin time to focus on her art. She was able to learn the ancient tradition of bronze casting from a Nepalese master. (audio below)

Disconnection

Yin and her family returned to the United States in 1988 and decided to settle in Massachusetts. Yin, curious about the academic side of art, started a master’s program at the University of Massachusetts. 

Yin’s loneliness increased, as her husband’s depression deepened. “We drifted apart gradually”. Yin threw herself into her art to distract herself from her failing marriage. Her husband would usually leave on four-month contracts. At one point, due to a commitment associated with the Bosnian War (1992-95), he left for a full year and a half. When he returned, it was only for ten days. 

Looking after her children, cooking, taking care of the house, and studying and creating art was a lot for Yin, especially after being used to having “servants” in Nepal. Yin felt like a single parent – she and her husband had stopped communicating. 

“He would always tell me when we were driving to the airport, ‘Yes, I think we need to talk’ Then, two months later, I would pick him up [but we never talked]. If you really meant to talk, you would say this to me when I pick you up at the airport, not when you are leaving.” (audio below)

In 2005, after 23 years of marriage, they separated. Despite the failure of their relationship, Yin says her husband was always a gentleman.

Quarry Life

Yin created a sculpture of Aristotle and Plato but felt like bronze wasn’t the correct medium. She imagined it in stone and reached out to a professional stone carver to see if he could teach her. He took her to a quarry in Chelmsford, Massachusetts, helped her choose a rock, and began to teach her the art of stone carving. Yin spent six months completing her first piece at the quarry, carving in all types of weather –  snow, freezing rain – it didn’t matter.

“I had children back home, so I would run home to cook, send the kids to school, and then run to the quarry.” (audio below)

Above: Yin’s sculpture of her “Quarry Father”

The family who owned the quarry didn’t charge Yin for using their land, and they went on to develop a strong bond. Yin calls the owner her “quarry father.” He would often leave one page of the bible on her stone and a piece of chocolate. She remembers him remarking to her, “You know I have never seen any man work this hard in my life.” Over the course of almost a decade, Yin carved at least 40 pieces in the Chelmsford quarry.

Container Man

In 1994, for the first time, Yin tried to create a sculpture that involved sound. After creating it, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with it and stored it away. Then six years later, in 2000 at an art symposium, she met a Hungarian artist named Viktor. She was impressed by his ability to create instruments and invited him to collaborate with her. In 2002 she received a small grant and they were able to start their collaboration. While working on the project, their connection grew.

“I fell in love with him. He sees what I don’t see.”

In 2005 Container Man, which consists of 14 mechanical kinetic musical instruments and equipped with a sound system and multimedia projection capabilities, went to Europe. Yin felt refreshed being around Viktor’s creative mind.

Above: Yin standing with “Container Man”

Contemporary Arts International

Eventually, Yin’s “quarry father” told her, “You have got to find land for all these sculptures!” He helped Yin find a quarry in Acton, which she bought in 2003 for “a very good price.” The person who sold the land believed in Yin’s dream of using it to create art. 

While working as a Chinese court interpreter, Yin spent weekends with Viktor at the quarry cleaning it out.

“It was a very dirty jungle – millions of bullet shells, broken glass, 27 cars, household goods, cabinets, and chairs!”

When it was ready, they started constructing Contemporary Arts International – a large studio and residency house- from the ground up. 

“We built up this place with our bare hands.”

This mission of Yin and Viktor’s nonprofit is to promote the creation, understanding, and appreciation of contemporary art in the global context. On their land, visitors can find more than 100 stone and kinetic metal sculptures.

Above: Yin showing tourists around the grounds [top] & a young apprentice working on a sculpture [bottom]

A Place to Stand

In hindsight, Yin feels lucky to have been so protected by her former husband and her father-in-law when she arrived in that small white Connecticut town. 

Above: Yin standing on her lookout over the quarry that Viktor built Yin for her birthday

Yin explains how she is enjoying the efforts of people who immigrated to America before her. She appreciates that those people established the rules and regulations that make the country the way it is today. It is for this reason that in American, Yin says she has willingly been “secondary.” Still, today after decades in the country, she feels like she has earned the right to raise her voice. 

“I now am contributing just as much as you to this country. Therefore, I have my place to stand, and you cannot move me.” (audio below)

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes edited for clarity and brevity.

Miriam’s Immigration Story – Mexico City, Mexico to Tiffin, Iowa

by

Tragic Beginning

Miriam’s father, an actor, died of colon cancer when she was six. It was a struggle for him to come to terms with his life ending, and his way of dealing with the pain was with violence.

“A lot of memories I have with my dad are really sad memories.” (audio below)

Above: Miriam has a few positive memories of her father. She can remember him dressing up for them in his costumes and making them laugh.

Miriam went with her aunt to get a black ribbon to tie on the store’s door – still not understanding that her dad was dead. When her older sister told her, Miriam didn’t cry; she felt free from the violence and relieved he was no longer in pain.

Miriam remembers seeing a document after his death that said she was an orphan.

“How could I be an orphan if I have a mom? Mexico’s culture is centered on the father figure – the male in the house – so it was very hard for my mom to be a widow and raise three girls.”

After her father’s death, if Miriam and her two sisters weren’t at school, they needed to work in the family store selling material for arts and crafts to support the family. Their only day off was Sunday.

Above: Miriam’s mother, with kittens, at the family’s arts and crafts store.

Art as an Escape

The one blessing of working in the store was that Miriam had constant access to all the art materials she could dream of – art was her escape. Miriam is the middle child of the three sisters – her older sister was rebellious and her younger sister was “the sweet girl”. Miriam had to be the responsible one. 

“I had to be strong and help my mom. At some point, I said, ‘okay, I’m going to be the man of the house.’”

If something broke Miriam would help fix it, or if someone was bullying her sisters, she would defend them. (audio below)

Her life growing up was not easy, and she remembers feeling like it would never improve. In 1985, when she was 15, she decided she was going to run away. Miriam had her things packed and was ready to run away. The day she was ready to leave, her older sister was gone – she had beat Miriam to it. Miriam’s mother was crying, and Miriam realized then, that she couldn’t leave too. (audio below)

Artist

Miriam always wanted to be an artist, but this was not something she felt her family or Mexican society in general supported. She remembers hearing how “artists are losers”. This didn’t make sense to Miriam though. The work of artists like Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, and David Alfaro Siqueiros is so important to her culture. She saw how artists were the people everyone remembers, even after they are gone. 

Above: Collapsed building from the 1985 earthquake | United States Geological Survey

In 1985, Mexico City suffered a massive earthquake – a significant moment in her teenage life. She recalls it being like a warzone with the entire downtown completely devastated. Miriam’s family had to move from their apartment to her aunt’s house. She felt compelled to document the scenes of devastation, but she didn’t have a camera. After that, Miriam decided she needed to get a camera. (audio below)

Miriam told her mom she was leaving to become an artist. She had a boyfriend, a journalist, who helped her get her first good camera. Miriam was gone for three years, but her life wasn’t heading in the right direction. She was getting into drugs and alcohol and had low self-esteem.

“I was letting myself follow a dream, swimming in a storm in the ocean, floating in the open sea.”

Spirituality

Miriam would describe her mom as a “seeker”, someone who is always looking for something. She has tried various different religions. When Miriam was 18, her mom called to say she had met her Guru in a dream. A woman dressed in red came, took her by the hand, and led Miriam’s mother to her spiritual teacher, a woman in India. Miriam’s mom felt that this dream really meant something and ended up going to an Ashram. When she saw Gurumayi, she recognized her as the Guru from that dream. 

 “Meeting Gurumayi was a 360-degree change for all of us”. 

The whole family ended up connecting with Gurumayi, and after Miriam did, she started to meditate. She found this had a positive effect on her outlook and happiness. Miriam moved back in with her mom, kept studying, and managed to put the pain and sadness from the past behind her. Although this felt like a positive change in their lives, not everybody in conservative Mexican society viewed it that way. 

 “Meditating was like the devil. It’s not Catholic, so we became ‘the witches’. I didn’t care. Now I see schools teaching kids to meditate, but not back then. It’s very hard to follow a path that people don’t understand.”

University

When Miriam chose her major for university, biology, she felt like she was betraying her inner-artist. She tried to justify it by convincing herself that one day she would become a science photographer. By the time she was finishing her degree, she was already working as a scientist in Ensenada, Baja California in collaboration with NASA 1997 to 1998. She studied the productivity of micro-organisms in the Pacific Ocean through satellite imagery, but she didn’t like it, sitting there looking at a lot of numbers all day. She was doing the research in English, so everything took her extra long. 

Above: Eight months pregnant in Ensenada, Baja California.

Miriam met the man who would become her husband when she was in high school, and he too was a scientist. Miriam’s daughter was born before the research in Baja California was finished, and then they all moved to Huatulco, a coastal tourist town in Oaxaca, where Miriam worked as an art teacher.

Above: In 2001, a Mexican diaper company had a contest asking people to dress their children up in a costume that includes their diapers, send in a photo, and possibly win money. Miriam dressed her son as actor Pedro Infante and her daughter as the Statue of Liberty.

Iowa

Miriam’s goal was to attend grad school in either Australia or the USA. Her husband (now ex-husband) is a marine biologist whose main focus is on coral evolution. Iowa happens to be full of fossil corals. The next town over from Tiffin, where Miriam lives now, is actually called Coralville because thousands of years ago it was a sea and full of corals. Miriam knew nothing about Iowa before moving there.

“In my brain, it was like coming to Alaska. Everything is just white and ice and cold. In Mexico, we were living on the beach and it was beautiful. I love hot weather.”

Miriam and her two children, ages one and three, moved to Iowa City in 2002 to join her husband who had come the year before to start his Ph.D. They couldn’t afford to bring many suitcases – they left most of their things behind. Miriam was surprised that her husband didn’t have a place for them to stay. They arrived at one in the morning, and her husband was living in a shared house with other students. That first night they slept in the living room.

Luckily the university has a program for international families, and they eventually managed to get a place. Still, it was just an empty apartment with no furniture. Their kind Argentinian neighbor was excited Miriam could speak Spanish and showed her how to look for things in dumpsters that Americans threw away. Miriam found lots of stuff like a bed for her kids, a chair, and pots to cook. The neighbor also brought Miriam to the International Women’s Group – a meeting with other women who were in similar situations. These women showed Miriam kindness and even gave her a bunch of toys and warm winter jackets for her kids. 

Above: Miriam’s children, one and three, were fascinated by the snow in their first week in Iowa. Miriam got the broom out, having no idea that people used shovels to clear snow (audio below).

Struggling

For those first four years in Iowa, Miriam was just trying to make sure her family survived. Her husband was always working, so she needed to take care of everything at home. She also needed to work. She was not only trying to support her family in Iowa financially, but she was also trying to send money back to her mother in Mexico. Miriam remembers going for her first job interview, and her little son climbing all over the interviewer. Her first job was as a baker making muffins and scones from 3:30 until 8 am. 

She heard about a scholarship that was available to the family of students already enrolled at the university, so she applied and got it. She was able to start studying at university pursuing a degree in photography and multimedia. 

By the time her husband had almost finished his Ph.D. the kids were just starting elementary school. It seemed like he was concentrating so much at school, that he forgot about the family. When the kids wanted to spend time with him, he was always too busy. She will never forget the day she asked him for a hug, and he said “no”. She decided then and there that she would never beg for a hug again. (audio below)

Above: Miriam’s mother with her grandchildren [left], Miriam’s markings of her children’s height [middle], & Miriam walking outside her house.

Divorce

Miriam knew that she needed to think more about herself and her kids. She wanted to stay and finish her university degree, but her husband wanted to return to Mexico. She told him to go back without her and the kids. He left in 2005 and Miriam’s mom came from Mexico to help her. In 2006 her mom started getting sick. Miriam didn’t have insurance for her so she went back to Mexico and brought the children so they could visit their father. Miriam stayed in the US to finish her courses.  

She thought her husband would get the children visas so they could travel back to the US to see her after three months, but he took his time. She had to wait seven months before she was able to see her children again. 

“It was the most horrible time in my entire life. I cried every single day. I could not handle being without my kids.”

Above: Miriam sitting below the painting she made after the relationship with her husband ended. (audio below)

Finally, her children came back to Iowa, and Miriam’s daughter said she wanted to stay in the US and go to school. She wasn’t going to deny her seven-year-old daughter a better education. Miriam took on two jobs, looked after her children, and tried to study. Eventually, Miriam had to drop out of university and she was never able to finish her degree. Miriam found out about a school district with “before and after school”, so her kids could go to school when she was working. These sacrifices paid off. Both of her children did very well in school – her daughter was even the valedictorian.

“We came for school, stayed for school, and we are still here for school”.

Butterflies

Miriam has an art studio inside her house. Much of her work has an underlying message. Miriam’s current piece is of a butterfly and is dedicated to the “Dreamers” (those with DACA). 

“For the butterfly, borders don’t matter. Butterflies belong to all of America from Mexico to Canada. I really hope people understand that, like the butterflies, it doesn’t really matter where you have to move – home is inside you, you know. It doesn’t matter where you are.”

She can’t understand why these young people, who have been in the US for most of their lives, have to struggle because of a piece of paper. She thinks it’s beautiful, like the butterfly, how so many of them overcome obstacles and are able to become successful professionals.

Lucha Libre

Miriam believes her late father always wanted a son. He loved watching sports like Lucha Libre, football, and boxing. He often treated Miriam like a boy, cutting her hair short, and reflecting on this now, she sees he was looking for a bond with a son. She really didn’t like Lucha Libre at first, but she would watch it with him, and he would tell her all the rules.

“I love Lucha Libre because it combines a lot of things. It’s like a circus. They have to be great athletes but also it’s theater and the spectators are part of the show. The luchadores feed on the energy from the spectators.”

The wrestling mask, known as the mascara, is an essential part of Lucha Libre. For many luchadores,  their careers end when their mask comes off. 

“The mascara is a symbol of the entire culture. It includes everyone. There are women luchadores, little people, people who are gay, people of all different ages, and the spectators are from the lower-income to the very rich, all in the same space screaming for their favorite luchador.” (audio below)

No Longer Invisible

Miriam noticed the Latino community in Iowa is “completely invisible”. A lot of cultural events, specifically within the arts, are too expensive for many Latino families in the area. She wanted to elevate their voices. Since 2017 Miriam has been trying to document Latinos in Iowa for her project Luchadores Immigrants in Iowa. She began doing interviews and photographs, but everyone told her they didn’t want to show their face. Miriam came up with the idea of a project where the participants can hide their true identities by wearing a custom-designed mascara, and still share their migration story.

Miriam didn’t realize how emotional and personal doing this project would become. She tries to balance connecting with the participants’ stories, while not letting them get to her so personally that they crush her heart. She has witnessed the diversity of immigration stories within Iowa’s Latino community – and many stories that make her feel privileged.

Creativity

Miriam’s son has always appreciated and benefited from, his mom’s creativity. He would always ask his mom to make outlandish Halloween costumes, and no matter what it was Miriam would make it. In tenth grade, he requested the Radish Spirit from Haya Miyazaki’s “Spirited Away” and within one day Miriam delivered [see the above photo]. (audio below)

Tragedy

One of the toughest moments in Miriam’s life was when her little sister, the “sweet one” [see the photo above], died in October 2018 at age 47. She died from the same thing that killed their father – colon cancer. Miriam has found it incredibly painful being separated from family during times like this but feels fortunate to have been able to video chat with her sister before she passed away. 

“Life comes with death. You can’t have one without the other one and you never know when it is going to be your turn.”

Future

Miriam works on her art when she is not at her day job at the local grocery co-op. She would love to one day be a full-time artist. She would also love to return to Mexico, and one day create a non-profit in Oaxaca that helps women and children, but she loves Iowa.

“I’ve found so many beautiful people in Iowa who have helped me in so many ways.”

Miriam stayed in America for her children. Their needs have always come first. Her daughter is at university and planning on going to grad school and her son is finishing high school and planning on going to university. Miriam couldn’t be prouder.

Above: Miriam’s daughter at University [left]

Hope

Seeing people reject immigrants breaks Miriam’s heart. She has heard their stories and wants others to see the humanity in them. Miriam emphasizes that with climate change, this movement of people in search of safety isn’t going to stop. 

“I really hope all countries realize that we are one, independent of what country we are born in. Borders don’t really exist – they are there to organize. When you have to leave everything behind to have a better chance, you are going to take the chance despite all the odds. You find people in your path who will make that path easier, and more welcoming. We need to realize that all we have is this planet and we have to share it. It’s not for one person, it is for everyone.” (audio below)

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes edited for clarity and brevity.

Phanat’s Immigration Story – Phanat Nikhom Refugee Camp, Thailand to New Iberia, Louisiana

by

Phanat’s parents met in Laos during the 1970s. They were both working for a French colonial family – Phanat’s mother was their servant, and his father was their security guard. After the Vietnam War, they fled from Laos to Thailand, out of fear of political persecution. His father left first, crossing the Mekong river at night, and his mother followed weeks later. 

Phanat Nikhom Refugee Camp

They had Phanat’s brother, sister, and then in 1981, Phanat was born in the Phanat Nikhom Refugee Camp. Six months before his birth, his parents’ resettlement to the US was approved. The family would be going to Louisiana, where Catholic organizations were helping resettle refugees, and the state had an abundance of available low-wage jobs. 

Louisiana

The family arrived in New Iberia in 1983, the largest city in Louisiana’s Iberia Parish. They lived in a three-bedroom trailer with a total of 11 people from three different families.

“We didn’t have a bed to sleep on. My mom found a mattress on the side of the road and pulled it into the trailer.” (audio below)

Survival for Phanat’s parents in this new country with three children and no money was hard. Their first job was sorting potatoes into cans and making $1.80 per hour. They also peeled crawfish and shucked oysters. He remembers his family members always smelling like seafood.

Everyone in their family had an economic function.

“If you existed and you were eating, you needed to do something.” 

Most of Phanat’s life has been within a three-block radius of New Iberia. Growing up, Phanat felt like he was living simultaneously in two different worlds; no one at home would be able to explain the “American” things he was learning at school, and no one at school understood his culture at home. 

“I had to figure a lot out on my own, since I spoke a different language, had different food, and different music. I grew up having to be very adaptable to every situation.” (audio below)

Above: Wat Thammarattanaram Buddhist Temple in Iberia Parish

Lao Community

Many families from Iberia Parish’s Lao community that arrived in the 1970s and 1980s have had similar experiences to Phanat’s. The region had federal training programs that targeted immigrant men to work in the oil fields and women in the textile industry. Because many of these immigrant families had dual-income households, they quickly elevated to a higher socioeconomic position within the community. This success, in turn, led to a lot of xenophobia and resentment from locals.

“Americans were used to a certain way of going about work. These immigrants came in, worked hard, did not take breaks, and that was threatening.” 

Above: The neighborhood streets surrounding Wat Thammarattanaram Buddhist Temple have Lao names

The Lao community has been somewhat insular and isolated in Iberia Parish – forming their own community ties to sustain their customs and traditions. Phanat believes the downside is that they have missed out on participation in local government and culture. As Phanat grew older he started to see himself as a connector between the Laos community and the other Louisianans.

Asia Market

Phanat’s mother always had an entrepreneurial spirit. She quit school after second grade in Laos to grow and sell vegetables at the market. After arriving in Louisiana and working in factories, she longed for a job where she could work for herself. She saw how many other Asian people were coming in Iberia Parish and looking for commodities they missed from Asia. Phanat’s mother opened her market in 1985, and offered many things from Asian movies to staple foods like rice, to small loans to help others start their own small businesses. She also started an urban garden in their backyard, growing Asian produce to sell at the store.

“The store became a mecca of Southeast Asian culture. There was an economy that was independent of the mainstream economy that was built in the Asian community.” (audio below)

Phanat has always had a lot of creative energy, and being the youngest child allowed him some space to explore this side. His brother, as the oldest boy, had obligations to provide for the family, whereas Phanat had the “freedom to dream wildly.” (audio below)

When it came time for university, Phanat decided to become an architect. He thought it was a career that would “balance the pragmatic side of his Asian roots and his creative side.” He went on to study at the University of Louisiana and then went to Columbia University in New York City to study Urban Design. Phanat knows he could have gone anywhere in the world with his degrees, but he wanted to move back to New Iberia and help return the city to its vibrant past.

Above: A painting of Bunk Johnson, Louisiana’s prominent jazz trumpeter, on the side of Phanat’s Da Berry Fresh Market.

“I was learning all these great things, but my mind always went back to New Iberia. Why couldn’t this happen in New Iberia – wonderful architecture or a beautiful park?”

Audio: Phanat discussing New Iberia’s vibrant past and his decision to return to help revitalize the area

Returning Home

After a decade of being away, Phanat returned to New Iberia in 2010. Within a year, he started Envision da Berry, an organization focused on local creative and artistic activities that open dialogue on how best to improve the cultural and economic development within Iberia Parish. He targeted five core areas to improve – art, culture, economy, transportation, and health and wellness. 

“I knew I had minimal resources, but I could get paint and do something impactful and get people to have conversations.”

His first local art installation in 2011 was a temporary public space piece – ‘tactical urbanism.’ He collected a group of residents, picked a street, put up planters, and installed street furniture [see his plan in the above photo].

“Let’s imagine our neighborhood the way we want to see it in a few years, but do it in a temporary low budget way. My art is ephemeral, very in the moment. It takes into consideration where the community is at. It pulls from the community in the way that it manifests itself – whether through PVC pipes, or me singing in a pop-up gay show tunes bar.”

Community Garden

Phanat could see the need for fresh produce in the community – a community that lacked healthy food options. In 2013 he expanded on the garden his mother had started when he was a little boy, and the Iberia Community Garden Co-Op was born. It is a community-supported urban food farm focused on pesticide-free, bio-dynamic, and space-intensive food growing practices.

“The garden has been this amazing thing in this community. It has become an obsession of mine and from it have found such peace and serenity.”

Above: A small community garden Phanat built in the middle of public housing

Aside from the community garden, Phanat has his personal garden, where he retreats for meditation and hopes to spend more time there in the future. He found himself involved in too many projects, stressed, and unable to express himself creatively. This garden is a place where he has complete control. 

“I think gardening is communion with nature. When you plant a seed in the ground you can’t rush that. You can’t rush a pepper plant growing. What I do with my meditation is to get my mind to move at the same pace as nature. At harmony, at peace with everything in the universe.” (audio below)

Brother

Phanat and his older brother Saysane live together in the old family house. A year before Phanat moved back to New Iberia, his brother’s kidneys were failing, so he had to go on dialysis. He is on a waitlist for a new kidney. If he doesn’t get an organ soon, Phanat plans on giving him his. 

Growing up, his brother played all kinds of sports, and he always looked very healthy. However, his brother, like many people in the community, never ate healthily. He would eat the same things that so many people in this community eat that cause high blood pressure, heart disease, and diabetes. Phanat mentions how Louisiana is ranked 49th in terms of the health of the state’s population.

“It is the poor eating habits of poor people. – a box of fried chicken and a gallon of soda. When I drop him off at dialysis treatment, the majority of people there are poor black people. This is why I see the importance of the garden and our effort to bring fresh produce to the community.”

Building Bridges

When Phanat moved back to New Iberia, he knew that he was going to be true to himself as a socially liberal, progressive, gay, Lao Buddhist immigrant. He also expected himself to be at odds with the greater community, which is predominantly African American and either Catholic or Baptist. 

As time went on, Phanat built up trust with the community. In 2018 he got a call from the minister at the Star Pilgrim Baptist Church, a 149-year-old African American church. He told Phanat that the church would like to honor him with the “Pacesetter’s Award” as part of their black history program. Phanat responded, ‘You do know I’m gay, Asian and Buddhist, right?’

 “I never would have thought that an African American Baptist church would honor me with anything!” (audio below)

Receiving this award was one of Phanat’s proudest moments. He saw it as representative of a paradigm shift happening in the community, celebrating people no matter where they are from, how they pray or who they love.

Fresh Market

Phanat’s most recent project in New Iberia is Da Berry Fresh Market, which opened in 2017. It’s a combination of a fresh produce market and a job training program for the local community. At the market, you can find fresh produce from the community gardens. 

Phanat has passed the torch of managing the market to Carl, a young man from Mississippi. Carl used to work full-time in the oil fields while attending college at night. His diet was horrible. One day an elder mentioned to Carl that he wasn’t taking care of himself, and that planted a seed. Since then, Carl stopped drinking soda, eating candy, and getting fast food. He’s fully invested in being healthy – growing his own plants, buying organic, and exercising regularly.  

“I never would have imagined that my life would have changed that much from my diet.”

Carl feels more spiritually connected – like Da Berry Fresh Market is part of his calling. He respects Phanat for starting it and sharing his knowledge. Carl thinks the local African American community is kept in a “condition of disease” from the unhealthy food they eat. He hopes the market can help change this by creating, “a community, surrounded by people of African American descent who all learn and heal together.” (audio below)

Above: A collection of articles written about Phanat’s work in Iberia Parish

Most of the work Phanat has been doing since moving back to New Iberia in 2010 has been for free. He has been widely recognized for all of his accomplishments, but as he says, “all these awards don’t come with a check!”

Above: Phanat after a meal at Brenda’s Diner, a favorite local restaurant.

Future

When Phanat returned to New Iberia, he committed to a “ten-year plan” to improve the community. It’s incredible how much Phanat has done since returning. As the decade comes to a close, Phanat wants to take more time for himself and spend more time on his personal garden. It is clear that no matter what Phanat does in the future, it will be creative and have a positive effect on New Iberia’s community.

*Update: Phanat’s brother Saysane passed away on April 7th, 2020 after a long fight with kidney disease, and complications from a very rare blood cell condition.

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes are edited for clarity and brevity.

Sabato’s Immigration Story – São Paulo, Brazil to Northampton, Massachusetts

by

Childhood

Sabato’s father met his mother, an industrial designer, in the mall where he owned a toy store. Their son Sabato was born in 1985, and when he was only one year old, they moved the family to Miami, USA. Sabato believes they had many reasons to leave and did so when his father secured a visa and some money to start a company. Sabato’s parents imported Brazilian semi-precious stones. The belief prevalent in the late 1980s and early 1990s within the Hispanic community of the healing powers of crystals fueled their business. Sabato’s parents opened concessions in Sears stores throughout South Florida, where they sold these stones.

Separation

When Sabato was six years old, his parents separated. His mom moved back to Brazil, and Sabato remained with his Dad in Miami. When Sabato was in college, his father remarried, and he has a 10-year-old baby brother, “who is amazing.”

Sabato’s mother wasn’t around when he was a child, and he remembers that he went through five years without seeing her. Currently, he gets to see her a few times a year.

Miami

Sabato grew up in Miami’s “multicultural immigrant vibe.” where he was able to interact with classmates from all over the world. As Sabato got older, he started to hate the superficiality of Miami’s “new money.” Sabato recognizes how Miami is different today with a budding street art scene and independent cinemas. Still, it wasn’t like that when he was growing up.

Undocumented

In the Miami of Sabato’s youth, so many people were undocumented. It was an easy place to get a job under the table. Like many of the kids he grew up around, Sabato didn’t know what the implications of not having papers were. Over time, he started to realize what it meant. Sabato couldn’t get a driver’s license but was able to secure a Florida state identification one day before September 11th, 2001, when the requirements changed.

“You become aware of these challenges. For people who grew up in the United States, it is just, ‘I’m 16, I’ll get my license’. These are things you assume you have access to, but you don’t.” (audio below)

Even though he heard that he couldn’t go to college because he was undocumented, he applied anyway. 

“You continue being a part of the community: you have friends, do American things, but when it comes to certain things like employment or financial aid you can’t.”

Because Sabato knew he wasn’t eligible for financial aid, he didn’t apply for it when applying for college. He worried about potential implications if he told the school he was undocumented: the chance of deportation worried his father. After being accepted to Amherst College in Massachusetts, the reality of not having financial aid hit:

“Holy shit! I need to pay $50,000 dollars every year to go here!”

Hustling Pianos

Because of his status, Sabato couldn’t find a job that would provide him with a salary, so Sabato and his father started a business flipping merchandise from auctions on eBay. What they decided to flip stemmed from Sabato wanting a piano to learn classical music. When his father went to a piano distribution center to find out the cost of one, he realized he could sell them on eBay and make enough of a profit to pay for three years of Sabato’s university degree.

“Only five percent of undocumented people go to college. I’m so lucky to have overcome that – hustling pianos!”

Audio: Sabato playing “Berimbau” / “Consolação” (Vinicius de Moraes / Baden Powell) on the piano

DACA

Sabato remained undocumented until 2014. With the DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) program, the government deprioritized his deportation, and he received a work permit. Most paths to financial stability involve getting a full-time job, and finally, Sabato could do this. Here in Massachusetts, he showed his Brazilian passport, and that was enough to get a driver’s license. (audio below)

Massachusetts

In 2001 at the age of 18, Sabato fulfilled the dream of going to Massachusetts to attend college.

“I wanted to go to a place where it snowed, the seasons changed and it was more ‘American’ – I was tired of Miami. I knew if I went to school somewhere where it was cold, my family would hardly visit me. That was part of the calculation. [laughing]”

Living in Massachusetts made him appreciate and miss Miami; however, following graduation Sabato decided to stay in New England.

Sabato has always been creative. He remembers getting into trouble in middle school for drawing cartoons when he was supposed to be paying attention to the lesson. 

At college, Sabato began taking portraits of his friends and doing video production. These two side hustles were extremely helpful considering that he couldn’t get a regular nine to five job.

Glitch Art

In 2011, a friend showed him a compact flash memory card in which the files were coming out glitchy. He was curious and fascinated by the missing parts and rearranged the pieces. Sabato began to create “glitchy” digital files on purpose [see the photos above]. This process of finding ways to corrupt or break photos or videos that he takes has become his artistic focus. His art has been shown at the Tate in London as well as featured in Time magazine. (audio below)

Meeting Meredith

It was through art that he met his wife, Meredith. Sabato was shooting an art show in Connecticut, and Meredith was one of the vendors. When he took her portrait, there was an instant connection. He still loves taking her photograph.

From what Sabato has observed, people who grew up in the States have all read the same children’s books or watched the same shows. He grew up reading Brazilian comic books and the bible in Portuguese, so some American pop-cultural references go over his head.

“I grew up differently and had different experiences.” (audio below)

Roots

He feels lucky that his father was persistent in his wish that Sabato would speak Portuguese as a child and maintain his language. He knows that for many immigrants his age, this is not the case. Throughout his childhood, Sabato translated for his dad, including the sermon at church and any legal documents.

Soccer played an important role in keeping Sabato connected to his roots.

“In 1994 the World Cup was held in the United States, and it was a big deal. I was really rooting for team USA. Brazil played the US in round 16 and I was rooting for the US even though Dad and everyone watching with us were rooting for Brazil. The US lost 1-0 and Brazil ended up winning the World Cup. That’s the first time I was proud to be Brazilian – being with that group, watching old games from the 70s with Pele and all the classic Brazilian soccer heroes. I’m part of this shared history which makes me really happy. In 1998, when Brazil went to the finals and lost to France, I was crying my eyes out.” (audio below)

Sabato feels like his Brazilian identity is becoming more defined with age, especially since moving to New England for college. Massachusetts is where his identity coalesced, and for the first time in his life, he felt “exotic.” (audio below)

Future

Sabato currently creates advertorial content for personal injury lawyers as his day job. In the future, he dreams of going to graduate school for photography or digital arts/media and eventually working full-time as an artist.

“I dream of one day being in a position where I can live off my work.”

*Update: Since the interview, Sabato got his green card through his marriage to Meredith, quit his job with the personal injury lawyers, and has been working as a full-time artist. You can find out more about Sabato’s incredible work on his website.

#FINDINGAMERICAN

To receive updates on the book release and exhibition of “Finding American: Stories of Immigration from all 50 States” please subscribe here. This project is a labor of love and passion. If you would like to support its continuation, it would be greatly appreciated!

© Photos and text by Colin Boyd Shafer | Edited by Janice May & Kate Kamo McHugh. Quotes edited for clarity and brevity.