Reflection​

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A Garden of Memories

The Chicago Botanic Garden holds a special place in my heart. It's been a constant in my life for over 15 years. When our kids were little, my sister and I would take them to run around the lush grassy knolls, weave through tree lines, jump on stepping stones and tumble down hills. We would grab lunch at the café and spend time in the Japanese Garden - a place I still visit often as it holds treasured memories of my nephew who left us far too young. The Garden is a beautiful respite during the warm months, and even as teens our kids are still willing to visit with us to check out the Jack-o-Lantern and Holiday Lightscape displays in Fall and Winter. The Orchid Show takes place in February-March during the coldest, grayest, drabest months of the year. Not typically a time when one thinks of visiting the Garden, but it is a welcome tropical escape in winter, and wildly popular drawing thousands of visitors. 

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Given my history with the Garden, I had some feels when I was approached about being part of the 2025 Orchid Show.  But the theme was one that had me riddled with misgivings.  For context, the Botanic Garden is located in Glencoe, IL which is a predominantly white, affluent suburb of Chicago.  Historically they cater to this demographic, and their staff and members largely reflect it as well.  As part of my work, I run a nonprofit organization whose mission is to create visibility and representation for the Asian American community through the arts.  Its mission is grounded in creating platforms for people, whose voices have been historically racialized and marginalized, to tell their own stories.  Our mission is not in opposition with the Garden's, but we're talking apples and oranges so they're not necessarily aligned.  I had concerns about participating in something that had the potential of being yet another display of a dominant group telling the stories of a marginalized group that are not their stories to tell.

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“There’s nothing such as the ‘voiceless’. There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.”

 

                                        - Arundhati Roy

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Why We Try

On its surface, the project was riddled with potential for cultural appropriation and harm. I'd been down this road before and I own my inherent bias against the project from the get-go, but given the structural make-up of the project's leadership and the Garden's history I also believe that my concerns were not unfounded.

 

That said, as uncomfortable as I was, I was equally curious about the project. I figured there was something to the fact that they asked me to get involved, and there was. As it turns out, the team I met with was great. It was clear from our first meeting that they were just as apprehensive about the theme. They wanted to do this but knew there were fundamental issues and obstacles that may or may not be surmountable. What I responded to in our intial conversations was the authenticity in their humility, and their desire and willingness to learn. There was definitely a sense of fear about creating something that would draw criticism and backlash, but that seemed outweighed by their not wanting to do anything that would cause harm. I shifted my thinking from seeing this as a potential trap to an opportunity. At the very least, a learning opportunity for all of us. At most, in my mind, an interesting and alternative platform for the local Indian and Indian American community to share their voices, work, and stories with the broader public.

 

I went into this project with my eyes open. I knew I was going into it as a "token Indian." That as much as my involvement was an intention to be inclusive of Indian/Indian American voices in the conception and creation of the exhibit, there was always the possibility of it fulfilling a checked box or even being scapegoated in case it all went terribly wrong. I knew that the fact that I am actually Indian American and that my "Indian-ness" would come into question at some point. It's a situation I've found myself on several occasions.  For these and many other reasons I accepted that this could potentially be an epic fail, but entered with a willingness to try, and a commitment to mitigating any potential harm the project could cause. (I say mitigate because there will never be a context in which you can account for how any given individual will interpret or be affected by something they encounter based on their own lived experience). Ultimately I decided to participate because here's the thing... If we don't do something because it makes us uncomfortable, or we fear that it's too different, or might draw criticism, then we're just helping to maintain the status quo. In this case, the status quo is that there are communities that don't feel welcome in spaces like the Garden due to their social, economic and cultural status, and there are far too many institutions that are run by and serve the dominant culture by co-opting, appropriating and capitalizing on the cultures of those with less access and opportunity. Maintaining the status quo is the same as being complicit, which is far worse than trying and failing to do something to make change. Right?

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So How Did It Go?

This collaboration was a new endeavor for CBG. It was their first time bringing in a co-curator from outside of the Garden for the Orchid Show. I don't know anything about horticulture and horticultural design, and my amateur gardening attempts pale in comparison to the incredible knowledge and expertise that was at the table. I also know little about orchids other than they are gorgeous, nature's magical works of art that make me smile, and I don't have any in my home for fear I will kill them and that would be tragic. What I did bring to this project was the lens of an artist, curator, community-based and therapeutic/social arts practitioner who works with underserved communities. My work prioritizes storytelling, amplifying other's voices, community activation, engagement and hands-on participation. With regard to their work, particularly on this show, these approaches weren't in their wheelhouse.  There was a whole lot of coming from a place of not knowing on all sides... and not knowing what to expect. I think the level of community engagement, outreach and involvement needed for a project like this pushed some at the Garden way out of their comfort zones. The addition of people, stories, and cultural elements added another level of apprehension. 

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As anticipated, my experience with this collaboration had a lot of ups and downs. I think it's true for most that when you work on a project, no matter what it is, you are never 100% satisfied with the outcome. In this case, there are elements of the final show that were successful and others that were less so, some aspects I adored, some not so much. I'm sure everyone who worked on it felt the same because each person invested their time, energy and care in making sure it was done right and done well. Historically, this show is about orchids. It is about color, and beauty and awe that is elicited with visual installations and design. Sometimes, you might learn about the places where orchids hail - their location, geography, climate. This show was a departure from 10 years of what has been done and what is expected. It was a small departure from the status quo in that it celebrated the fascinating origins and bounty of orchids that grow in India, and invited the viewer to see glimpses of traditional and contemporary Indian and Indian American history and culture mirrored in their diversity and beauty. Yes, there are things that I would've liked to see that didn't come to be. I believe there was potential to create more opportunities for engagement with the local Indian and Indian American community. I feel there were opportunities missed in ways that Indian and Indian voices could have been amplified. And I would have liked to see more art and participatory elements that would have engaged the viewer on a deeper level. But when it came down to it the show was about orchids, bursting with color and beauty and eliciting moments of wonder and awe - and the viewer experienced that as synonymous with India.

 

My hope when going into this project was to explore this non-traditional venue for amplifying the voices and stories, and showcasing the art and artisinal work, of a community that does not always have access to the platforms the Garden provides. The aim was never to do a show about "India," but to do a show about orchids in India, and honoring their origins in a way that invites wonder and curiosity about the abounding geography, history, culture, traditions and people of India. I think the show was successful in that it pushed the boundaries of an institution that simultaneously clings to the status quo while wanting to do more and better. I think it also acheived its objective of offering beauty, warmth and light during these cold, dark gray winter months (and times). I imagine I'll be processing and learning from my involvement in this project for some time. I do know that this experience was just as much about the process as the final product. No, the show wasn't some groundbreaking piece of social action, but I believe it represented the small steps we make toward creating change, and offered a brief respite from the challenges we're facing in our daily personal and collective lives - which is both welcome and sorely needed. And for me, at this moment in time, it was enough.