Autumn 2024 Edition
Table of Contents
Growing up Sikh in America
Keerith Kaur
The Moon’s Oneness
Nadhri Kaur
The Photography Controversy in Harmandir Sahib
Sayva Kaur
What is the Guru?
Uday Singh
Embracing Sikhism Daily
Umang Kaur
Growing Up Sikh in America
By Keerith Kaur
Growing up as a Sikh girl in Florida, or anywhere outside traditional places like Punjab or large communities in cities like Vancouver or London, brings lots of challenges and rewards. I embrace my unique identity while also still navigating American Mainstream culture. Sometimes people are confused as to what ethnicity I am, or they ask why I keep my hair. I have to deal with bullying, misconceptions, and more. Yet I still stay proud of who I am. This is what it's like for me being a Sikh girl living in America, following our traditions while also trying to fit in with the mainstream “norms”.
My identity isn’t just internal or personal. Usually you don’t know what someone’s religious beliefs are just by looking at them. Wearing a Kara (metal bracelet) and keeping my hair are some of the traditions I take part of as a Sikh girl. These help others identify me. Sometimes, these traditions spark curiosity with people unfamiliar with Sikh values. Some people ask questions, others stare or laugh. I enjoy telling people about my religion when they’re curious, or telling them why I don’t cut my hair or shave. This visibility is a source of pride for me. I like educating others who are curious. As a Sikh, we believe in equality and living an honest life. So explaining my beliefs often helps build connections with people, even if they are of a different culture. Even if I’m the only Sikh girl in my class, I know there are still others from lesser-known backgrounds too!
While I am proud to be Sikh and follow these values, I have had experiences with bullying. A girl in middle school would bully me for having hair on my arms or for looking different than everyone else. Another girl even said it was greedy that I didn't cut my hair, because people could use it for wigs! Once, a girl showed me a picture of a dog with lots of excess fur, and told me I’d look like that if I didn’t shave. This made me feel very insecure. It’s sad to know that bullying is not an uncommon problem growing up Sikh in America. While lots of people are open-minded when I explain my religion, others are mean and hurtful. At first I felt ashamed and even self-conscious, then, I realized that I should be proud of my religion. Even if other kids are being mean, I am following what I believe in, and that's what's important. It's also hard when people believe in stereotypes that the food I eat is gross and smelly, or that I smell bad! Being a Sikh girl in Florida also means navigating misconceptions. Many people in the U.S. are not familiar with Sikhism, and it’s not uncommon for people to confuse Sikhs wearing a Dastar (turban) with Muslims, especially after 9/11. Many Sikhs became targets of Islamophobic hate crimes due to their visible appearance. This can result in uncomfortable situations or even bullying. One of the most effective ways to combat bullying and discrimination against Sikhs has been through education. Telling someone why you don’t cut your hair or why you look the way you do can give them insight. Even with all these problems I never let that get to me, I stay proud of my religion, and as tempting as it is, ignore the bullying. Afterall, being Sikh taught me that everyone is equal, so it’d be unfair of me to intentionally try and hurt someone's feelings, even if they hurt mine first. While living in America as someone from such a unique background can have challenges like these, it is also rewarding. I am proud to be the person I am, no matter what the kids around me say.
Sikh girls often grow up learning religious traditions while also navigating mainstream American culture. For example, attending Gurdwara on Sundays is a key part of my religion, but so is attending school events, hanging out with friends, and being a part of school sports or clubs. For some people-- balancing these may feel hard. Maintaining traditional values and modesty in a world that promotes different social norms can be challenging, having to explain why you don't drink alcohol or cut your hair when everyone else is doing so. But this brings out resilience and a sense of who I am.
Overall, being a Sikh girl living in America comes with its own set of unique experiences, some challenging, some rewarding. No matter what happened. I always stay proud of who I am.
The Moon’s Oneness
By Nadhri Kaur
Isn’t it beautiful to think-
That the whole world looks at the sky to see the moon?
All connected by that shine in the sky,
Like the Oneness that transcends us.
Everyone sees the moon,
People from four hundred years ago,
And the people that may live in my home in a century,
They will notice the moon, ponder its beauty.
My mother as a child, me as a child,
Connected by that lunar glow like Oneness.
Decades separating us,
United by that boundless force- that Oneness.
Guru Nanak Dev Ji, my great grandparents,
And my future great grandchildren,
All of the people across blue-light screens,
Are connected by the moon hanging from midnight.
Isn’t it beautiful? Doesn’t it represent Waheguru?
That we’ve all seen it, all under the moon,
Like a golden thread connecting us,
Ek Onkar in each breath, a shared embrace.
Gazing upon that glowing sphere,
Feeling the Oneness drawing near,
Like we all see the moon, we are all a part,
Of the Ek Onkar living in each heart.
The Photography Controversy in Harmandir Sahib
By Sayva Kaur
Although taking photos and videos within Harmandir Sahib has been banned for a few years, many people still disregard this rule, and it has become a large topic of controversy. The ban on photography within Harmandir Sahib came as a result of increased social media usage, and increase in tourism. Because of the increased availability of electronic devices, many tourists have violated and disrespected Harmandir Sahib. Overall, there are many reasons for why photography should be banned. Some of these include:
When visiting, people would be more in the present moment and focus their attention on the Guru
In a world full of social media, it is easy for our attention spans to lessen or for our minds to wander. The most important thing however, is to listen to Keertan and Paath, to learn what the Guru is saying. One of the most important ways to show someone respect is by listening, and by listening to the Guru, you can show respect to the Guru.
Violations of Harmandir Sahib are prevented
A large part of why photography was banned in the first place is because of the way in which people recorded themselves doing dances or other acts, that are not allowed within a Gurdwara setting, for their social media accounts. A ban on videography prevents this and ensures appropriate behavior within Harmandir Sahib.
Disregards those who come to Harmandir sahib to pay their respects
Many people who come to Harmandir Sahib are actually there to pay their respects to the Guru and the constant photo and video taking can be a distraction to those people. Not everyone there is a tourist, and it is important for those who are, to respect Sikhism and the way in which Sikhs attend Gurdwara.
Even though it is saddening that many people cannot respect Harmandir Sahib, the ban on photography serves a purpose, however one cannot help but think about the benefits there would be if tourists used photography in a proper, respectful manner. The truth is that there would be many advantages of photography if this were attainable including:
Many people would be more aware of Harmandir Sahib, and Sikhism in general
Social media reaches so many users every day, and when people can post pictures of Harmandir Sahib responsibly, it would reach wider and more diverse audiences. This could lead to discussion about not just Harmandir Sahib itself, but also the history of Harmandir Sahib and its importance within Sikhi. As a minority religion, proper usage of social media could bring Sikhi onto a wider world stage, even bringing attention to current events regarding Sikhism.
It allows for us to capture and immortalize Harmandir Sahib
When history is not documented, there are many instances in which it is unclear what happened or what something looked like. By having thousands of pictures of Harmandir Sahib at our fingertips, we can make sure that we immortalize its beauty and have our history documented. This will allow future generations to know what Harmandir Sahib looked like at this instance in time. All in all, photography will allow the beauty of Harmandir Sahib to live on forever.
It allows tourists to admire the architecture within Harmandir Sahib
Harmandir Sahib is a beautiful structure and many tourists come just to admire the amazing feat of architecture that Harmandir Sahib is. Photography allows us to capture these special moments and appreciate Harmandir Sahib’s architecture even long after we visit. Photography in general, gives us the chance to relive memories we love.
The photography ban placed within Harmandir Sahib prevents many disrespectful happenings that can take place within Darbar Sahib, but if users of electronic devices were to be more aware of how to carry themselves within Gurdwara, there would be many positives to the usage of devices that can take photos.
What is the Guru?
By Uday Singh
Guru Nanak Dev Ji redeems Raja Devloot
Introduction
The “Guru”, literally “Gu” (darkness) → “Ru” (light): enlightener, preceptor, is the center focus of the Sikh, the disciple. Sikhi is an entirely Guru-Centric tradition, from which the disciple Sikh derives all of his spirituality and understanding from. The Guru is the ultimate, as well as sole authority in all authentic Sikh Tradition. What does this status truly entail? What is the Guru in Sikh thought? Is he a prophet, god-incarnate, social reformer, humanist, or learner himself? Let’s explore the true depth behind this perplexing title.
An assessment of modern conceptions
Let’s first begin by how Guru Nanak and all subsequent Gurus are viewed today by the masses, both Sikh and Non-Sikh. Guru Nanak is most typically presented as an enlightened being, who had a spiritual epiphany in the River Bein, transforming him into a Socio-Religious Spiritual Reformer, whose main focus was to rid societies of Ritualism and Caste distinctions, inspiring humanity to go back into pure worship of God. This conception is accurate to a degree, however it forgets pivotal aspects of Guru Nanak’s identity and mission which, in modern times, are more-or-less looked over. The next Gurus carried on this mission of Guru Nanak, its quintessence being exemplified in Guru Gobind Singh, creating the Khalsa as the final step in Guru Nanak’s spiritual path, meant to embody all of the ideals of the 10 Gurus. This idea of Guru Nanak stresses humanist ideals, and while this conception is accurate to an extent, it doesn’t do justice to the deeper, mystical revolutions that Guru Nanak brought about.
An assessment of old conceptions
To understand how Sikhs of old would have understood the Guru’s nature, we can look towards Janamsakhi literature. Janamsakhis are the oldest records of the history of Guru Nanak. Janamsakhis are not referenced widely in mainstream Sikh discussions, although virtually all history of Guru Nanak from modern books and stories finds its origin in this early type of literature. Many Janamsakhis are controversial and have interpolations, such as the Miharban Janamsakhi, and in academia, Janamsakhis are questioned on the basis of their mythological underpinnings. Regardless, engaging with this type of literature is an objective way for us to understand how Sikhs around the time of the Gurus understood who the Gurus were, and what their mission was. Too often, Sikh literature of old is discarded and branded as “inauthentic” and “brahmanical” without understanding the context or purpose they were written for. The stories of Guru Nanak redeeming literal demons, causing water to suddenly appear in dry deserts, and most famously, Guru Nanak turning around the Masjid Al-Haram all serve as rhetorical devices for the Sikhs to understand who the Guru is: the all-capable one.
The Daia Ram Abrol Janam Sakhi, more popularly known as the B40 Janamsakhi, is an early Janamsakhi text from 1733 CE. Its content is relatively the same compared to other, earlier Janamsakhi texts. The beginning of this Janamsakhi reads as such:
ੴ ਸਤਿਗੁਰ ਪ੍ਰਸਾਦਿ
The Birth of Guru Nanak
This is the account of Baba Nanak ji, the revered First Guru, born in the village of Talvandi, under the rule of Rai Bhoa the Bhatti, in the household of Kalu, a Bedi Khatri by caste.
In the dark age of Kaliyug, Baba Nanak proclaimed the divine Name and established his community of followers, the Panth.
Baba Nanak was born in the year Samvat 1526 Bk, on the third day of Vaisakh (Wednesday, 29 March, 1469), during a moonlit night in the final watch. Heavenly music filled the air, and 330 million gods, accompanied by the eighty-four Siddhs, nine Naths, sixty-four Yoginis, fifty-two Virs, and six Jatis, hailed his arrival.
“Nirankar-Purakh (The Formless Being) has come to save the world!" they proclaimed. "Hail Him!"
In this Janamsakhi, as well as most other early Janamsakhis, Guru Nanak is understood to be the formed expression of the formless being himself. It stresses the divine, unfettered and supreme nature of Guru Nanak, above all of creation. Yogis (84 Siddhs), Yoginis, Devas, and all other high beings bowed before the infant-nanak, way before his spiritual calling in the River Bein. Guru Nanak is seen as being born divine, as a salvation for the world in the dark age. His primary mission is the spreading of the divine name, Naam, and no stress is given on social reform.
What’s the Guru?
Looking at these two conceptions of Guru Nanak’s spirit and mission, how should we as Sikhs in the modern world understand the Guru? Guru Nanak was not just a social reformer, he wasn’t just someone who called people back to the divine, but Guru Nanak, as mentioned in the Janamsakhis, propagated Naam into all of the world, not just Punjab, and not just India. When Guru Nanak went to Baghdad, where music was forbidden, the sound of Bhai Mardana’s Rabab could be heard throughout the entire city. The Muslim Clergy searched and searched the city in order to stop it, but they were unable to tell where the sound was coming from. Looking past the city wall, the Qazis found Guru Nanak and Bhai Mardana singing kirtan.
The Baghdad Gurdwara
Guru Nanak was the singing Guru, the Guru who raised the consciousness of the entire world not through his preaching, and not through his lectures or debates, but through his shabad. It was the Kirtan of Guru Nanak which turned Mecca into Sachkhand. This is who the Guru is - the enlightener, the preceptor who guides humanity into the light of naam and shabad. Only with this as Guru Nanak’s main mission can we ever hope to understand our Gurus. With a purely modern understanding of Guru Nanak, it’s often assumed that the Sikh’s duty is merely to keep his “dil saaf” (heart pure) from misdeeds and hatred towards others, but this is an incredibly low bar. This is just a prerequisite of birth, it is not a form of spirituality in any sense. Guru Nanak gave the world shabad yog, union with the formless being through sound and word. Shabad is the revolution of Guru Nanak, and it’s what gives Sikhs gnosis (gyan) of everything relating to Vaheguru.
ਜੈ ਘਰਿ ਕੀਰਤਿ ਆਖੀਐ ਕਰਤੇ ਕਾ ਹੋਇ ਬੀਚਾਰੋ ॥
In that house where praises are vocalized; where the creator is contemplated -
ਤਿਤੁ ਘਰਿ ਗਾਵਹੁ ਸੋਹਿਲਾ ਸਿਵਰਹੁ ਸਿਰਜਣਹਾਰੋ ॥੧॥
- in that house, sing the sublime, pure song; immerse yourself in the creator ||1||
Embracing Sikhism Daily
By Umang Kaur
Living in a world where Sikhi isn't commonly known, my identity often feels like a quiet statement. There’s no outward symbols to explain who I am, just subtle reminders in my daily life. The values I carry, the traditions I honor, and the quiet moments of reflection are small acts in which I can find my balance between staying true to my Sikh roots and adapting to a world where I’m rarely surrounded by other Sikhs.
Throughout my life in school, questions from others pop up. ‘Why do you wear that bracelet?’, ‘Have you really never cut your hair?’ ‘Why don’t you just trim the bottom?’. Some questions felt genuine and there was the occasional snarky comment. Though, I was fortunate enough that I never fell a victim of bullying, as many other Sikh kids do. When I got these questions, I sometimes felt the need to brush them off as to keep quiet about my faith. I wanted to fit in, not stand out. I didn't have freshly cut short hair, I wasn’t free on Sundays, and I had to wear a clanky metal bracelet all the time. It wasn’t until I was in about 5th grade when I truly realized that the values and religion I had practiced my whole life felt foreign and alien like to others and these questions were made from pure curiosity or misunderstanding. This made me realize that these insecurities that I was feeling came from lack of understanding, both from others and myself. By diving deeper into Sikhi, I slowly found myself feeling pride for my religion rather than shame. I turned my vulnerability into my confidence. I learned that when people asked me questions, it was an opportunity, not a burden. It was an opportunity to spread my culture and make my identity known.
During this journey, I found that I often felt like I was navigating these struggles alone. While I was getting to be a proud Sikh, there were times when I wanted to share that pride with others who really understood it. But I felt as if I never could. When I went to school, most kids were light skinned, had straight hair that only went to their shoulders, and thought I was sick when I told them about my religion. It wasn’t until I started to surround myself with other Sikhs that I felt like I wasn’t alone anymore. I could see my confidence blossoming and my relationships growing. This sense of community was crucial in allowing myself to grow as a Sikh. I carried the confidence that I felt with my Sikh friends to school and wherever I went, and soon I didn't need to carry it. It was just there.
Looking back on my journey of self discovery, I see how far I’ve come. I feel more confident and secure in myself as a Sikh and I've learned to navigate the complexities that come with living in a non-Sikh environment as a Sikh. I no longer feel the pressure to hide or downplay who I am and where I come from. I’ve been able to find a sense of peace in living according to my values and not what others around me say. This confidence didn’t come overnight though. It’s been shaped by countless memories, lessons and support from my community. However, I acknowledge that challenges still arise. I still have days of doubt and insecurity, or times when I question whether or not I’m doing enough to represent my faith. These are struggles that remind me that growth is ongoing, and it’s okay to seek support and understanding as I continue to evolve as a Sikh. Ultimately, each experience that I have as a Sikh, good or bad, poses as a constant reminder to me that no journey is seamless, there will always be challenges along the way.