August 2016

A few months ago, I made a leap of faith. Every night, when I lay my son in his crib, my love for him swells up in my heart – and then fear lodges in my throat when I think about him coming of age. This election year, it feels like fear and hate threatens to swallow America whole. I can’t protect him from the fires of life; I can only try to give him a better world. But after 15 years as an activist, I’m tired of fighting

I'm in Oak Creek today to commemorate the four-year anniversary of a mass shooting on Sikh Americans. On August 5, 2012, a white supremacist opened fire in a Sikh gurdwara in this small town in Wisconsin, spilling blood in a place of prayer and peace. He killed six people and wounded many more. The tragedy too quickly fell out of national memory. But that's not why I keep coming back. As a Sikh, all my life I have been taught “chardi kala” – the spirit of optimism and revolutionary