Photo: Sarah B. Gilliam
Threading the needle is challenging; keeping a steady eye on a very small opening, while gripping a thin line of thread in the other hand, poking the gap, struggling to find it’s way through. The long line of thread finally pulls through the eye of the needle, maneuvering like a human chain through a tense situation.
In 1988, my family and thousands of Kurds fled Northern Iraq to escape the tragedies of war under Saddam Hussein’s dictatorship. Never identified within society or given any record of their existence, my parents fled their homes for a chance at freedom. Four years after their escape, I was born in a refugee tent draped with layers of torn and worn out fabrics amidst the jagged and uncertain brown peaks of Southern Turkey.
My work explores the issues of being a refugee and the transition of becoming an immigrant. There’s a constant search for an identity while being in between places and cultures. Living in this bicultural “reality” creates isolation, whether it is by political alienation and/or by familial/cultural expectations. I challenge myself with different processes to convey these motifs through various materials to communicate with the viewer(s). Primarily using fibers, textiles, and hair makes me feel connected to my identity; it’s a reminder of where I came from and the familiarity of “home”. As I carefully thread the needle, I think about my female ancestors that would have repeated the same motion to stitch torn things out of necessity; as I repeat the same motion I utilize the strength of thread to mend the frayed parts of my identity.
In 1988, my family and thousands of Kurds fled Northern Iraq to escape the tragedies of war under Saddam Hussein’s dictatorship. Never identified within society or given any record of their existence, my parents fled their homes for a chance at freedom. Four years after their escape, I was born in a refugee tent draped with layers of torn and worn out fabrics amidst the jagged and uncertain brown peaks of Southern Turkey.
My work explores the issues of being a refugee and the transition of becoming an immigrant. There’s a constant search for an identity while being in between places and cultures. Living in this bicultural “reality” creates isolation, whether it is by political alienation and/or by familial/cultural expectations. I challenge myself with different processes to convey these motifs through various materials to communicate with the viewer(s). Primarily using fibers, textiles, and hair makes me feel connected to my identity; it’s a reminder of where I came from and the familiarity of “home”. As I carefully thread the needle, I think about my female ancestors that would have repeated the same motion to stitch torn things out of necessity; as I repeat the same motion I utilize the strength of thread to mend the frayed parts of my identity.
