Reclaiming Agency and Identity in Transitional Spaces
Khadeine ali advisor: Maria linares Trelles Fall 2024
For my support system—Mom, Dad, Grandma, Azhar, Raisa and Kunza.
For the legacy we carry through our matriarchs— Mama Sal, Grandma, and the generations before.
Thank you.
Abstract
Prospectus
Research Questions
Constellation Map
Chapter 1: Diaspora
Case Study 1: The Lion House
Chapter 2: Feminist Critical Theory
Case Study 2: Grandma’s Bedroom
Case Study 3: Sororities, a Critique of ‘Sisterhood.’
Chapter 3: Decolonization
Chapter 4: Displacement
Case Study 4: Spectrum of Resistance
Case Study 5: Seeking Asylum in the United States
Theoretical Framework
Creative
Context
List
Annotated
Abstract
In an era marked by unprecedented global displacement, the concept of “home” has become increasingly complex and contested. This thesis investigates how displaced individuals use homemaking practices, vernacular materials, and objects to reclaim identity and create belonging within spaces of transition. Centered on the metaphor and reality of the waiting room, this research examines how these liminal spaces—often sites of bureaucratic tension—can be transformed into environments that foster cultural preservation, emotional well-being, and empowerment.
Through analysis of case studies of bureaucratic spaces of “waiting” in New York City, including Brigid’s Respite Center and the Roosevelt Hotel Asylum Intake Center; decolonial theory, and ethnographic methods, this research explores how womencentered spaces carve out spontaneous sites for homemaking, how the condition of waiting can become an opportunity for belonging, and how displaced individuals reclaim transitional interiors through rituals, material culture, and spirituality to find joy and agency in their identity.
Waiting rooms often exacerbate trauma through physical discomfort, language barriers, and systemic power imbalances. By examining homemaking practices during displacement, this research highlights the often invisible emotional labor in maintaining cultural continuity while reframing waiting spaces as opportunities to foster dignity, healing, and memory transmission. In this way, this thesis advances interior design as a collaborative, culturally sensitive practice supporting community empowerment and belonging.
Prospectus
Displacement is more than a geographical disruption; it is a profound emotional, cultural, and spatial experience that challenges notions of home, identity, and belonging. This thesis investigates how displaced individuals—primarily asylum seekers in the United States— navigate uncertainty, maintain cultural continuity, and reclaim agency through homemaking and placemaking practices. By examining how individuals transform unfamiliar spaces into sites of cultural memory, resistance, and resilience, this research uncovers the subtle yet powerful mechanisms of survival and adaptability in the face of displacement.
Through case studies of bureaucratic spaces in New York City, such as Brigid’s Respite Center and the Roosevelt Hotel Asylum Intake Center, this research explores how transitional spaces—often designed to impose discomfort—can be reclaimed as environments that foster belonging and dignity. Central to this investigation is the waiting room, which functions as a literal space (asylum processing centers) and a metaphorical space where displaced individuals experience liminality, suspended between displacement and resettlement. Four key research questions guide this inquiry:
• How does the act of waiting create opportunities for belonging? In what ways can waiting be recontextualized as a dynamic strategy for placemaking, allowing displaced individuals to forge social connections and a sense of belonging while addressing the emergent, adaptive needs of their communities?
• How can displaced individuals transform spaces of waiting and transition, turning them from sites of intimidation and discomfort into areas of agency, social resilience, and belonging?
• How do women-centered spaces create spontaneous sites of homemaking that enable collective healing, cultural memory transmission, and community empowerment for diasporic and displaced communities?
• In what ways can spirituality and rituals be foundational placemaking strategies in transitional spaces, aiding cultural continuity and resilience?
This research extends beyond academic discourse by centering on the lived experiences of displaced individuals. It challenges dominant design paradigms that often render marginalized communities invisible while illuminating the emotional labor involved in maintaining cultural continuity amidst upheaval. By addressing colonial legacies embedded in contemporary design practices, this thesis offers alternative approaches that honor indigenous knowledge systems while meeting the practical needs of displaced communities.
Situated within the field of interior design, this thesis reimagines spatial design as a dynamic process rooted in collaboration with displaced communities. It challenges conventional approaches that treat interior spaces as static containers by proposing a participatory understanding of interiors as living narratives shaped by their inhabitants’ practices and memories. By focusing on homemaking practices—such as cooking traditional meals or storytelling—this research broadens the discourse on interior design to include participatory methods that prioritize emotional resonance and cultural significance.
The project draws from a community of practice at the intersection of feminist critical theory, decolonized design, and vernacular design practices. It engages with displaced individuals through participatory research and creative collaborations, emphasizing deep ethnographic listening and co-creation. By fostering these collaborative interactions, the project amplifies marginalized voices and explores how homemaking practices serve as underrecognized tools for resistance against erasure. This approach aims to transform research from being an extractive and reductive process into a generative space of collective meaning-making, where displaced and diasporic communities are not merely subjects of study but active cocreators of knowledge and cultural reimagination.
This thesis contributes to broader academic fields by integrating feminist critical theory, decolonized design principles, and vernacular design practices into its framework. Feminist critical theory, informed by scholars such as Bell Hooks and Judith Butler, provides tools to examine power dynamics and gendered experiences related to displacement. Decolonized design, influenced by thinkers like Walter Mignolo and Anibal Quijano, offers strategies for dismantling colonial influences in architecture and material culture by prioritizing indigenous knowledge systems and local materials. Vernacular design practices build on material culture studies, drawing inspiration from artists like Syrian refugee Mohamad Hafez to explore how objects—such as heirlooms and cooking tools—carry memory and identity for displaced individuals.
Methodologically, this research employs creative practice methods to engage directly with communities while advancing theoretical inquiry. The diasporic cookbook serves as a research methodology and a cultural archive by documenting recipes alongside personal stories from diasporic communities. Material experiments with vernacular materials (soil or earthen floors) explore their potential for creating functional objects that reflect practicality, necessity and cultural significance. This thesis examines how interior environments can support collective healing, cultural memory transmission, and community empowerment by situating themselves within physical spaces (temporary shelters or waiting rooms) and emotional landscapes navigated by displaced individuals.
This research aims to explore several interconnected areas: examining how waiting spaces might be reimagined as sites of agency and belonging, investigating women-centered homemaking practices as potential forms of resistance and cultural preservation, and developing a diasporic cookbook as both a methodological approach and a possible archive of community knowledge. This work seeks to understand how interior spaces could support healing, belonging, and cultural continuity by centering marginalized voices and questioning traditional design paradigms. The study explores how waiting might be reframed – not as a passive state but as an opportunity for placemaking, spiritual practice, and community building.
Through this lens, the research considers how interior design might evolve into a more collaborative and culturally responsive practice that supports community empowerment, particularly how women-centered spaces and spiritual practices contribute to collective healing and cultural preservation in diaspora communities.
Research Questions
How does the act of waiting create opportunities for belonging? In what ways can waiting be recontextualized as a dynamic strategy for placemaking, allowing displaced individuals to forge social connections and a sense of belonging while addressing the emergent, adaptive needs of their communities?
How can displaced individuals transform spaces of waiting and transition, turning them from sites of intimidation and discomfort into areas of agency, social resilience, and belonging?
How do women-centered spaces create spontaneous sites of homemaking that enable collective healing, cultural memory transmission, and community empowerment for diasporic and displaced communities?
In what ways can spirituality and rituals be foundational placemaking strategies in transitional spaces, aiding cultural continuity and resilience?
The traditional Lipay technique—a mixture of cow dung, clay, and water historically used in Trinidad and Tobago was considered to be ‘backward’ by the British and phased out of building methods.
“The architecture was telling the stories found in the layers of Damascus…A head… if you can’t get home, why got sick of seeing dead bodies as a How many more dead bodies could me to start humanizing refugees and We come from established lives.
Mohamed explores left as a student
Constellation Diagram
The constellation diagram depicts the intricate network of experiences, concepts, and historical contexts related to diasporas, asylum seekers and displacement. At the heart of the diagram is the complex nature of displacement and the factors that influence it. The diagram also introduces unique concepts like “the waiting room” - physical and digital - as transitional spaces in the diaspora experience. This visual representation provides a comprehensive overview of the interconnected factors shaping diaspora communities, from global historical forces to deeply personal psychological responses and cultural practices.
stories of those who lived within, Damascus…A little light bulb went off in my don’t you make it home? People sign of empathy. I get it. I did, too. could you see? There was a fire inside and telling their stories… We had lives...
Mohamed Hafez’s work “Unclaimed Baggage” his relationship with Syria, a country he student and was never able to return.
As a reflection of colonial power dynamics, British colonizers photographed Indian women and used their likenesses on postcards without their consent. This practice not only commodified their image but also contributed to the exoticization of Indian women, framing them as objects of fascination for Western audiences.
Chapter One
Diaspora
The term diaspora transcends simple geographic displacement—it embodies a complex web of cultural preservation, identity formation, and memory-making through time, space, and objects. As communities move away from their homelands, they create intricate networks of belonging that manifest through architecture, objects, and shared cultural practices. This interaction between physical space, material culture, and memory forms the foundation of diasporic identity preservation.
Physical sPaces as cultural rePositories Architecture in diasporic communities serves as more than shelter—it becomes a vessel for memory and identity. This is evident in projects like Javier Bosques’s Extension Familiar, where architectural spaces actively preserve oral histories and objects of socio-historical significance.1 The project demonstrates how built environments can protect both tangible artifacts and intangible cultural heritage, creating living archives of community memory.
This architectural preservation of memory echoes in V.S. Naipaul’s “A House for Mr. Biswas,” where the protagonist’s quest for a home represents more than the search for physical shelter.2 The Lion House in Chaguanas, Trinidad, is a testament to this duality—a physical structure that embodies the cultural memory of Indo-Caribbean migration and adaptation. Like the spaces in Extension Familiar, it is a tangible link to ancestral journeys and new beginnings.
objects as anchors of MeMory
Within these architectural spaces, objects become crucial anchors for diasporic identity. From the cooking tools and recipes that maintain culinary traditions to the textiles that carry patterns and techniques from ancestral lands, these items form a material vocabulary of cultural memory. The diasporic cookbook project exemplifies this intersection of object and memory, where recipes serve as practical guides and symbolic artifacts connecting generations.
This preservation of memory through objects finds powerful expression in Mohamad Hafez’s suitcase dioramas. His miniature recreations of war-torn
2 Naipaul, V S. 2001. A House for Mr. Biswas. New York: Vintage Books
Figure 1: Family Extension by Javier Bosques. Photo by Javier Bosques
Syrian interiors demonstrate how architecture and objects can capture and transmit cultural memory. The suitcase itself becomes a poignant symbol—a vessel of displacement that contains carefully preserved memories of home.3
infor Mal architecture of belonging
Community hubs—beauty shops, faith-based shelters, and cultural centers—emerge as informal architectural spaces where diasporic individuals foster belonging. These spaces, like those documented in “After Belonging” by Lluís Alexandre Casanovas Blanco, demonstrate how communities adapt and create environments that support cultural preservation while facilitating integration into new contexts.4
The “Traces of Displacement” exhibition at the Whitworth Art Gallery further illustrates this phenomenon, showing how displaced communities use various mediums—textiles, paintings, multimedia installations—to create spaces of memory and belonging.
Mounira al Solh’s intimate portraits within the exhibition reveal how personal narratives become part of larger architectural and cultural spaces.5
the intersection of Personal and collective MeMory Gaiutra Bahadur’s “Coolie Woman” illuminates how personal histories intersect with collective memory in diasporic communities. The stories of indentured women laborers, preserved through narrative and object, demonstrate how individual experiences contribute to broader cultural memory.6 The book becomes an architectural space—a repository for forgotten histories and preserved memories.
creating MeMory sPaces in disPlaceMent
The Welsh concept of “Marathi”—homesickness for a homeland that no longer or has never existed—underscores the importance of creating memory spaces in displacement. Projects like Hafez’s Suitcase Dioramas and Extension Familiar show how architecture can actively preserve and protect oral histories and objects of great socio-historical value, creating physical spaces where memories can be maintained and shared.7
3 “A Broken House” — Re-Creating the Syria of His Memories, through Miniatures. Directed by Jimmy Goldblum. The New Yorker, 2021.
4 Lluís Alexandre Casanovas Blanco. 2016. After Belonging: The Objects, Spaces, and Territories of the Ways We Stay in Transit. Zurich: Lars Müller Publishers.
5 Green, Leanne, Hannah Vollam, Ana Carden-Coyne, Chrisoula Lionis, and Angeliki Rousseau. 2022. Traces of Displacement: Exhibition Guide.
6 Bahadur, Gaiutra. 2013. Coolie Woman, the Odyssey of Indenture. University Of Chicago Press.
7 “A Broken House” — Re-Creating the Syria of His Memories, through Miniatures. Directed by Jimmy Goldblum. The New Yorker, 2021.
the role of objects in space
Within these architectural frameworks, objects take on heightened significance:
- Family heirlooms become bridges between generations
- Traditional implements preserve cultural practices
- Photographs and documents record community histories
- Artistic works interpret collective memories
conclusion
The intersection of diaspora, architecture, and material culture reveals how communities maintain identity across borders and generations. Through projects like Extension Familiar, artistic works like Hafez’s dioramas, and literary expressions like “A House for Mr. Biswas,” we see how physical spaces and objects work together to preserve cultural memory and enable cultural continuation.
This preservation occurs not just through grand architectural gestures or formal institutions, but through the everyday practices of homemaking, object preservation, and community gathering. Understanding these processes helps us appreciate the resilience of diasporic communities in maintaining their cultural heritage while adapting to new environments.
The architecture of memory, whether manifest in physical buildings, preserved objects, or created spaces, provides essential infrastructure for cultural preservation. It enables communities to maintain connections to their heritage while creating new identities in adopted homes. Through this balance of conservation and adaptation, diasporic communities continue to write their stories in space and objects, creating living archives of cultural memory that span generations and borders.
Mohamad Hafez. Baggage Collection. Plaster, paint, antique suitcase, found objects, rusted metal, wood, Persian carpet, dried plant; 24 by 16 by 10 inches. Photo courtesy of the artist.
Case Study: The Lion House from ‘A House for Mr. Biswas’
Trinidad & Tobago
The Lion House, also known as Hanuman House, in V.S. Naipaul’s “A House for Mr Biswas,” provides a compelling case study for examining the intricate dynamics of gender and power within traditional Indian diasporic households in Trinidad. This imposing structure represents a microcosm of postcolonial society, where women play a vital and crucial role in cultural preservation and family cohesion, a role that is often unacknowledged but of immense significance.
In Hanuman House, we witness how women, particularly the Tulsi women, are simultaneously powerful and powerless. They serve as the backbone of the household, orchestrating daily life and preserving traditions, yet their contributions are often overlooked or taken for granted. The novel reveals how Tulsi women are powerless outside the home because their traditional marriages bar them from doing much outside the house. However, they are not alone in their struggles. They
are supported and connected inside the home because the women form Hanuman House’s core social unit, a bond that strengthens them in the face of adversity.
This paradoxical position of women in Hanuman House reflects broader themes of identity, belonging, and agency. Despite their limited autonomy, the silent strength of these women in maintaining the household provides a nuanced perspective on how displaced individuals, particularly women, navigate and reshape transitional spaces. Their experiences in Hanuman House offer insights into the complex process of home-making in displacement, highlighting the spiritual and emotional dimensions of creating a sense of belonging in interstitial spaces.
By examining the Lion House, we can uncover how transitional and interstitial spaces can become sites of oppression and potential empowerment for women.
Figure 3: The Lion House. Photo by Kendra Green for the National Trust of Trinidad and Tobago.
The Lion House
“Among the tumbledown timber-and-corrugated-iron buildings in the High Street in Arwacas, Hanuman House stood there like an alien white fortress. The concrete walls looks as thick as they were, and when the narrow doors of the Tulsi Store on the ground floor were closed the House became bulky, impregnable and blank. [Chapter 3, The Tulsis]
The Lion House, known as Hanuman House in V.S. Naipaul’s “A House for Mr Biswas,” is a powerful symbol of collective memory, cultural preservation, and the complex dynamics of belonging in a postcolonial context.
This imposing structure, based on the real-life Anand Bhavan in Trinidad, represents a microcosm of the transitional and interstitial spaces central to the experiences of displaced individuals. As Mr. Biswas navigates his relationship with this communal dwelling, Naipaul explores themes of identity reclamation and agency that resonate deeply with the struggles of those caught between traditional values and modernizing forces.
The Lion House embodies the tension between collective identity and individual autonomy, serving as a refuge and a constraint for its inhabitants. It becomes a site of cultural preservation, where rituals and traditions are maintained, yet simultaneously representing the challenges faced by those seeking to forge their paths.
Through Mr. Biswas’s experiences within and attempts to escape from the Lion House, Naipaul illustrates the complex process of home-making in displacement, highlighting the spiritual and emotional dimensions of creating a sense of belonging in transitional spaces.
Figure 4-12: The Lion House. Photo by Kendra Green for the National Trust of Trinidad and Tobago.
1: PreParation
Here, the Tulsi women, daughters, and daughters-in-law prepare dinner together for their large family. Women take turns caring for babies and children and divide the tasks of setting the table and other chores. The men are out or resting, waiting to be called for dinner.
3: cleaning
Once again, the women of Tulsi restored the kitchen and dining room to their normal and calm state. The men, however, chose to rest and refrain from helping with the housework, thereby perpetuating patriarchal norms.
2: eating
Only at meals do the roles of wife and mother step out of the shadows to serve husbands and feed children. Notably, the emphasis is on the men and children, not on the quality of the food or the significant time it would’ve taken to make the dishes. This underappreciation of the effort is a point of concern.
4: sleePing
As the main bedroom was shared among married couples, the women would sleep in the dining room for decency and privacy, allowing them to be safe together and build a sisterhood.
Social Structures
orientalism, exoticism, and sensualization of the ‘coolie woman.’
The Capildeo Family
What about Shama?
Mr. Biswas’ wife was the tie that kept the family and household from ruin, but she is seen as a passive, useless character.
The inspiration for ‘A House for Mr. Biswas’
My mom was born on the 3rd floor. At home without a midwife. My grandma felt unimportant and expendable.
Mom, circa 1968.
Mom and Grandma.
Manbloemstraat, Surinam.
Chapter Two
Feminist Critical Theory
Feminist critical theory illuminates how power structures and gender dynamics function within systems of oppression, particularly in contexts of displacement and homemaking. Through the work of scholars like Simone de Beauvoir, bell hooks, Judith Butler, Walter Mignolo, and Anibal Quijano, we can trace how colonial legacies shape both gender dynamics and cultural erasure. This intersection of feminist theory and decoloniality reveals how women’s homemaking practices serve as powerful acts of resistance and cultural preservation within displacement contexts.
theoretical fraMework: feMinist theory and decoloniality
The integration of feminist critical theory with decolonial perspectives exposes complex power dynamics within displacement contexts. Patriarchal systems perpetuate gender inequality through institutional and social mechanisms, while colonial legacies continue to impact displaced communities. Women face the particular challenge of navigating both gender-based discrimination and displacement, yet their responses demonstrate remarkable resilience in maintaining cultural identity and building community.
literary PersPectives on disPlaceMent
Gaiutra Bahadur’s “Coolie Woman” offers compelling documentation of this resilience through its examination of indentured women’s experiences. Bahadur’s investigation of her great-grandmother’s journey from Bihar to Guyana raises profound questions about agency, coercion, and survival.1 Her great-grandmother’s story—traveling alone and pregnant, promised her husband would follow—mirrors the experiences of countless others. The uncertainty surrounding such departures—whether fleeing abuse, falling victim to trafficking, or seeking opportunity—reflects the complex circumstances of women’s displacement. Through these narratives, Bahadur recovers the histories of approximately a quarter-million “coolie” women, revealing their strategies for maintaining cultural practices and building support networks under oppressive conditions.
Toni Morrison’s “Beloved” explores similar themes through magical realism. Based on Margaret Garner’s escape from slavery, the novel examines 1 Bahadur, Gaiutra. 2013. Coolie Woman, the Odyssey of Indenture. University Of Chicago Press.
women’s preservation of identity and community under extreme oppression.2 Morrison’s supernatural elements and temporal shifts capture trauma’s ongoing impact while highlighting how maternal practices and community networks enable cultural preservation. The novel’s exploration of intergenerational trauma parallels the experiences documented in “Coolie Woman,” demonstrating displacement’s multigenerational effects.
Sylvia Plath’s “Daddy” contributes a crucial perspective on psychological displacement through its exploration of alienation under patriarchal authority. The poem’s personal narrative illuminates broader patterns of gender-based oppression and resistance, demonstrating how creative expression enables the reclamation of agency.3 This psychological dimension complements accounts of physical displacement, revealing the multiple levels at which women experience and resist oppression.
doMestic sPace as Political arena
Maria S. Giudici’s “Counterplanning from the Kitchen” provides a theoretical framework for understanding domestic spaces as sites of resistance. While traditional views frame these spaces as locations of invisible, undervalued reproductive labor, feminist analysis reveals homemaking as a political act through which women assert agency and preserve cultural practices.4 Daily activities like cooking, storytelling, and crafting become powerful means of maintaining cultural identity and building community networks that support survival and resistance.
The analysis of waiting rooms as gendered spaces offers another vital perspective on women’s displacement experiences. Though often designed without consideration for women’s needs, these institutional spaces become sites where women perform essential emotional labor and construct informal support networks. Through these practices, women transform sterile institutional environments into vibrant centers of community formation and cultural preservation.
decolonial design Practices
Contemporary efforts to decolonize design practices build on this understanding of space as simultaneously oppressive and resistant. By integrating indigenous design principles and prioritizing community engagement, these approaches create more inclusive and culturally responsive spaces. This work acknowledges spatial design’s crucial role in either supporting or hindering cultural preservation and community building.
4 Giudici, Maia S. (2018) Counter-planning from the kitchen: for a feminist critique of type, The Journal of Architecture, 23:7-8, 1203-1229, DOI: 10.1080/13602365.2018.1513417
While the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) defines displaced women as those forced to flee their homes due to conflict, persecution, or violence, this definition only begins to capture their complex experiences. Despite facing gender discrimination and limited resources, women actively resist erasure through homemaking practices that support cultural preservation and community building.
These insights carry significant implications for both theory and practice. Understanding how women maintain cultural identity and build community through homemaking can inform more effective and culturally sensitive approaches to supporting displaced populations. This requires recognizing women’s agency while acknowledging structural constraints, working toward solutions that support both individual empowerment and collective resilience.
conclusion
The ongoing relevance of these issues, from historical experiences of indenture to contemporary displacement, underscores the importance of documenting and supporting women’s resistance strategies and cultural preservation practices. This understanding challenges us to create more equitable approaches to displacement—approaches that recognize women’s agency while addressing the structural inequities that perpetuate displacement and gender-based oppression.
Case Study:
Grandma’s Bedroom & Aunty Nicey’s Kitchen
Trinidad & Tobago
In this case study, we delve into two intimate spaces that embody themes of safety, tradition, and community: my grandmother’s bedroom and my childhood babysitter, Aunty Nicey’s kitchen. These spaces reveal how personal environments can reflect deeper cultural practices and values, and our exploration of them is instrumental in understanding the complex layers of cultural identity.
Grandma’s Bedroom: A Sanctuary of Tradition and Memory
My grandmother’s bedroom is a testament to the preservation of memory and tradition. The wrought iron on the windows symbolizes a commitment to safety, creating a secure haven. Her prayer corner is a sacred space where tradition is actively practiced, surrounded by old photographs that serve as visual anchors to the past.
Aunty Nicey’s Kitchen: Community and Coded Safety
Aunty Nicey’s kitchen offers a unique perspective on safety and community. In unexpected places, money and valuables are hidden away, challenging typical notions of security. Aunty Nicey embodies this concept of personal safety, famously keeping her money tucked in her bra top—a practice known as body coding, where one’s body becomes the safest place. The large pots in her kitchen are not just for cooking; they symbolize community gatherings and the rebuilding of heritage, fostering a sense of belonging and shared history. This introduction sets the stage for a detailed analysis of how these spaces function as more than just physical locations—they are reflections of cultural identity and resilience.
After many years of hard work and sacrifices, my grandparents built this home when they moved from Suriname to Trinidad. The house was completed in 1978, and my grandma has lived there since. Something interesting to note about the floor plan is that other rooms in the house have changed, but their master bedroom has remained consistently in
this area, a testament to our family’s enduring traditions. It is also the only room behind two locked doors, reinforcing the physical appeal of feeling safe at home. It is now where my grandma sleeps, and she calls it her sanctuary, where she can feel safe in the years after my grandfather’s passing in 2016.
Grandma as Matriarch
Prayer rug
Security & Ritual Making; Affirmation of Traditional Values
wrought iron
Security & Protection; Physical Embodiment of Protection and Strength while still adding aesthetically to the home
hidden ‘corners’ Security & Agency; to put valuables away in a place only she knows cookie tin Memories & Tradition- it was also her mom’s sewing kit and where she hid her valuables
Grandma’s Bedroom
Another ‘hidden corner’ a place where Aunty Nicey hid her dowry in case she needed it to sell or melt for its gold contents.
cookie tin
collective kitchens
Community empowerment; opportunity for women to meet; a safe space for many.
hidden ‘corners’
Security & Agency; to put valuables away in a place only she knows
Money in bras
Security & Agency; Body Coding; In this case, her body is the safest thing and what she can trust
Aunty Nicey’s Kitchen
Case Study: Sororities, a Critique on the meaning of ‘Sisterhood.’
usa & Trinidad
The concept of sisterhood within sororities is multifaceted and steeped in traditional and modern complexities. After watching Bama Rush and exploring the viral phenomenon of #rushtok, it becomes clear that these organizations, founded initially to empower and educate women, have evolved under the influence of societal expectations and patriarchal norms—what I refer to as the “male gaze.”Sororities promise a sense of belonging and legacy, offering young women a community where they can forge lifelong friendships.
However, beneath this veneer lies a more complicated reality. The desire to fit into these social constructs often leads to conformity, where individuality is sacrificed for acceptance. This duality is reflected in both the camaraderie and the challenges members face. My conversations with my mother, who attended an all-girls high school, further highlighted this tension.
While there is undeniable strength in sisterhood, the social hierarchies within these groups can perpetuate exclusion and competition. The pressures to conform to certain ideals—often dictated by external societal standards—can lead to harmful behaviors such as eating disorders and vulnerability to issues like the date rape drug.
Moreover, the role of social media amplifies these pressures, creating an environment where appearance and perception are constantly scrutinized. Yet, women find solace in each other in this challenging landscape, forming bonds that provide safety and support against external threats. This paradoxical nature of sororities—where empowerment coexists with vulnerability—demands a critical examination of how these institutions can evolve to truly serve the interests of their members.
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs
In the context of sororities.
After exploring documentaries and social media portrayals of sororities, it became evident that these organizations often present a misleading promise of self-actualization to teenagers. While striving to create a space where members can express their true selves, sororities paradoxically suppress individuality.
Bama Rush. Image courtesy of HBO Max.
A Critique of Sisterhood.
Founded on the concept of empowerment, sororities provide a safe space for growth and support. Fraternities reinforce this, highlighting the influence of patriarchy on perpetuating a sisterhood narrative convenient to their agenda.
Chapter Three
Decolonization
Decolonizing design represents a crucial movement to dismantle colonial legacies embedded in architecture, material culture, and design practices. This approach extends beyond aesthetic considerations to challenge fundamental knowledge, power, and cultural value assumptions. The process of decolonization itself—achieving cultural, psychological, and economic freedom for previously colonized peoples—requires a fundamental reimagining of how we conceive, create, and inhabit spaces. By examining spaces from waiting rooms to cultural centers, we can understand how design either perpetuates or resists colonial structures of power.
understanding coloniality
Aníbal Quijano’s seminal work, “Coloniality of Power, Eurocentrism, and Latin America,” provides a crucial framework for understanding how colonial structures persist in modern systems. Quijano argues that colonialism didn’t end with formal decolonization but transformed into a pervasive power structure— coloniality—that continues to shape global hierarchies.1 This system organizes society along racial, economic, and epistemological lines, maintaining European knowledge systems and cultural values as supposedly superior. When we examine contemporary architectural spaces, we often find these colonial hierarchies reproduced in everything from spatial organization to material selection, manifesting in the privileging of certain aesthetic traditions, the dismissal of Indigenous building practices, and the perpetuation of power dynamics through spatial arrangements that subtly reinforce colonial authority.
Quijano’s critique of Eurocentrism as aframework reveals how European knowledge became positioned as universal while marginalizing other ways of knowing. Walter Mignolo’s “The Darker Side of the Renaissance” further explores this dynamic, demonstrating how European Renaissance ideals shaped modern knowledge systems and design practices, often dismissing vernacular approaches as backward or primitive.2 The impact of this Eurocentric bias appears clearly in architectural education and training, where
1 Quijano, Anibal, and Michael Ennis. “Coloniality of Power, Eurocentrism, and Latin America.”Nepantla: Views from South 1, no. 3 (2000): 533-580. https://muse.jhu.edu/article/23906.
2 Mignolo, Walter D. 1998. The Darker Side of the Renaissance. Ann Arbor: Univ. Of Michigan Press.
traditional building techniques, indigenous spatial organizations, and local materials often face dismissal as “primitive” or “unsophisticated” despite their ecological wisdom and cultural significance.
challenging colonial sPaces
The critique of bureaucratic spaces, such as waiting rooms and asylum intake centers, reveals how institutional design often perpetuates colonial power structures. These spaces frequently subject displaced individuals to dehumanizing processes rooted in hierarchical power dynamics. The layout of these spaces—from the arrangement of seating to the positioning of administrative desks—often reinforces power differentials and creates environments of surveillance and control. However, these same spaces also become sites of resistance where individuals and communities maintain dignity and cultural practices despite institutional constraints. Through subtle interventions and adaptations, displaced people transform hostile institutional environments into community and cultural preservation places.
Contemporary decolonial design practices emphasize the integration of vernacular materials and traditional techniques. Practices like lepay (using cow manure in floor finishing) represent indigenous knowledge systems that challenge Eurocentric design norms. The revival of vernacular techniques goes beyond mere aesthetic choices to embrace different ways of knowing and building. These practices often embody sustainable principles and deep cultural knowledge, offering alternatives to industrialized construction methods. Their incorporation into contemporary design represents a form of resistance to the homogenizing forces of global architecture.
Projects like the diasporic cookbook and traditional textile work serve as archives of cultural memory, documenting practices that colonial systems attempted to erase. These initiatives demonstrate how design can support cultural continuity while challenging colonial hierarchies. The documentation and preservation of traditional practices through design projects maintain cultural knowledge across generations, challenge the supremacy of Western design traditions, create physical spaces that support cultural practices, and build community through shared knowledge and skills.
identity and Power in design
The relationship between coloniality and identity manifests clearly in how displaced communities navigate designed spaces. Design practices that support cultural preservation—from cooking to crafting—become acts of resistance against systemic erasure. These practices help maintain cultural identity amid displacement while challenging colonial narratives that exoticize or marginalize non-European identities. The role of design extends beyond physical space to encompass cultural gathering spaces, support for traditional practices, preservation of cultural memory, and resistance to assimilation pressures.
The 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale’s Brazilian Pavilion exemplifies contemporary approaches to decolonial design. This project demonstrates how design can actively support decolonization efforts by challenging historical narratives and architectural practices that have marginalized Indigenous and Quilombola communities. The integration of Indigenous knowledge systems and cultural heritage into contemporary architecture provides:
-Illustrating the importance of recognizing Indigenous spatial knowledge.
-Integrating traditional building techniques.
-Involving communities in design processes.
-Challenging dominant architectural narratives.3
Contemporary decolonial design interventions take many forms, from spatial organization supporting multiple uses and communal activities to material choices incorporating local and traditional techniques. Community engagement becomes crucial, involving local populations in design processes, recognizing indigenous knowledge systems, and building collective ownership of spaces. These interventions create environments that support cultural preservation through spaces for traditional practices, intergenerational knowledge transfer, and community gatherings.
hanging taPestries froM the orish tradition. Packed earth floor.
wrought iron raMMed earth Pedestals
Gabriela de Matos and Paulo Tavares, Courtesy of Fundação Bienal de São Paulo
Chapter Four
Displacement
Displacement fundamentally reshapes human experiences, encompassing both the physical act of being uprooted from one’s home and the profound emotional toll this displacement inflicts on individuals and communities. In this context, waiting rooms emerge as crucial sites of study—spaces that function both literally and metaphorically as zones of transition and uncertainty. Often designed to process and contain displaced populations, these spaces can also become unexpected sites of resistance and cultural preservation through homemaking practices.
The concept of the waiting room extends beyond its physical manifestation in places like Brigid’s Respite Center or asylum intake facilities. As explored in “Making Home(s) in Displacement: Critical Reflections on a Spatial Practice” (2022), these spaces represent complex environments where displaced individuals grapple with prolonged uncertainty about their legal status and future prospects. The book brings together scholars from architecture, urban studies, and migration studies to examine how displaced people worldwide create a sense of ‘home’ and belonging in transient spaces, particularly within contemporary geopolitical conflicts like the global refugee crisis and forced migration.1
Chapter 8, titled “Years in the Waiting Room,” provides particularly valuable insights as it explores waiting as both a spatial and temporal experience. The waiting room becomes a physical embodiment of liminality—a space situated between departure and arrival, past and future, belonging and exclusion.2 This analysis is further enriched by The Funambulist’s investigation of “waiting bodies in dictatorial and bordering regimes,” which reveals how the experience of waiting is often weaponized by those in power against people in transition, especially in migration and border control contexts.
The physical design of waiting rooms frequently exacerbates feelings of anxiety and powerlessness. Overcrowding, lack of privacy, and dehumanizing
1 Beeckmans, Luce, Alessandra Gola, Ashika Singh, and Hilde Heynen, eds. Making Home(s) in Displacement: Critical Reflections on a Spatial Practice. Leuven University Press, 2022. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv25wxbvf.
2 Ibid.
bureaucratic processes create environments that can intensify the trauma of displacement. These spaces, primarily designed for administrative efficiency rather than human dignity, often fail to address the complex emotional and cultural needs of displaced individuals.3 However, within these challenging environments, there are opportunities to reimagine these spaces as sites of healing and cultural affirmation by incorporating culturally sensitive design elements, vernacular materials, and storytelling installations.
Homemaking practices become essential tools for reclaiming agency within these liminal spaces. Through everyday acts such as cooking traditional meals or mending clothes, displaced individuals maintain vital connections to their heritage while adapting to new environments. These practices transform sterile institutional spaces into hubs for cultural preservation and community building. The diasporic cookbook project exemplifies this dynamic, documenting recipes not merely as cooking instructions but as acts of cultural preservation that link displaced individuals to their heritage and community.
The significance of these homemaking practices extends beyond mere survival or comfort. They represent active resistance against the erasure of cultural identity, often accompanying displacement. By creating familiar environments within unfamiliar spaces, displaced individuals assert their agency and uphold cultural traditions despite institutional constraints. These acts of homemaking in waiting rooms and temporary shelters demonstrate how displaced individuals navigate the complex terrain between preservation and adaptation, maintaining cultural identity while forging new forms of belonging.
Contemporary scholarship on displacement increasingly recognizes the importance of these spatial practices in understanding how displaced populations create meaning and maintain dignity in transitional environments. The way individuals transform waiting rooms through homemaking practices reveals the resilience of displaced communities and highlights the potential for redesigning institutional spaces to better support cultural preservation and community building.
This understanding challenges designers and institutions to reconceptualize waiting spaces as not merely sites of passive containment but as active environments that support cultural preservation and community formation. By incorporating elements that acknowledge and facilitate homemaking practices—from communal kitchens to areas for storytelling and cultural celebration—waiting rooms can better address the complex needs of displaced populations while fostering dignity and cultural continuity.
3 Beeckmans, Luce, Alessandra Gola, Ashika Singh, and Hilde Heynen, eds. Making Home(s) in Displacement: Critical Reflections on a Spatial Practice. Leuven University Press, 2022. https://doi. org/10.2307/j.ctv25wxbvf.
The intersection of displacement, waiting, and homemaking practices highlights how displaced individuals navigate and transform spaces of uncertainty into sites of belonging. Through everyday acts of cultural preservation and community building, they challenge the traditional notion of waiting rooms as purely transitional spaces, creating environments that uphold individual dignity and collective resilience instead. This understanding offers crucial insights for designing more humane and culturally responsive institutional spaces.
Case Study: Spectrum of Resistance (from mundane to protests)
This case study showcases women’s diverse resistance against patriarchal structures. The acts of defiance range from subtle everyday actions to explicit protests, highlighting the multifaceted nature of women’s resistance and the complexity and depth of the issue.
The Mundane: Solidarity in Everyday
The first category explores the potency of collective rituals in everyday life, with a particular focus on the Russian banya. This seemingly mundane act, where women of all ages and backgrounds come together, transforms into a powerful symbol of solidarity. It serves as a potent reminder that resistance can be seamlessly woven into the fabric of daily life, offering opportunities for empowerment and connection that inspire with their strength.
Celebratory Moments: Henna Parties
The second category brings to light the significance of celebratory moments, such as henna parties before weddings. These women-only gatherings, where friends and family adorn the bride with
henna, are not just about the celebration. They are powerful spaces for women to bond, support each other, and affirm their womanhood. Even in the face of challenges, such as those experienced by Syrian refugees, these events offer moments of joy and a powerful affirmation of womanhood that uplifts with their resilience.
Explicit Protests: Roe v. Wade
The third category underscores the impact of explicit protests, as seen in the Roe v. Wade demonstrations. These protests are potent expressions of collective resistance, drawing attention to critical issues and demanding change. They highlight the ongoing struggle over women’s rights in American politics, particularly concerning bodily autonomy. Through these images and narratives, this visual archive illustrates how women navigate and challenge patriarchal structures in varied and profound ways. From the every day to the extraordinary, these acts of resistance underscore the resilience and solidarity inherent in women’s communities worldwide.
Mundane Protest celebratory Finding community and building solidarity in everyday activities that allow for conversation or vulnerable moments to be shared.
Spectrum of Resistance
Celebratory moments are often before a milestone or life transition. These moments bring women together for a culturally accepted gathering or event.
Protests are the most obvious forms of resistance that stem from working together against a policy or event.
Roe V Wade protests (1973)
Russian Banyas
Henna Parties
Roe V. Wade (1973)
Markets in Trinidad
Roe V. Wade (2022)
The Mundane: Solidarity in Everyday Ritual
Celebratory Moments
Explicit Protests
Case Study: Seeking Asylum in the United States
uniTed sTaTes
Seeking asylum in the United States is a complex process, characterized by bureaucratic, psychological, and social challenges. For displaced individuals arriving in cities like New York, the journey involves navigating unfamiliar systems, enduring prolonged waiting periods, and experiencing significant emotional strain.
Asylum seekers typically arrive at U.S. ports of entry, such as JFK Airport in New York City, where they are processed by Customs and Border Protection (CBP). This initial interaction involves documentation, health screenings, and the issuance of a Notice to Appear (NTA) for an immigration court hearing. Many migrants are then transported to New York City by bus or other means and directed to intake centers or temporary shelters. These places serve as transitional environments where migrants begin their journey through the U.S. asylum system.
Upon arrival in New York City, migrants are directed to facilities like Brigid’s Respite Center or the Roosevelt Hotel Asylum Intake Center. Brigid’s Respite Center, a repurposed Catholic school, functions as a temporary holding site
where migrants receive basic necessities such as cots and food; however, they lack access to showers or laundry facilities. Overcrowding and minimal resources amplify feelings of liminality and discomfort. In contrast, the Roosevelt Hotel Asylum Intake Center serves as a centralized hub offering legal aid, health services, and temporary housing. Dubbed NYC’s “modern Ellis Island,” it symbolizes both hope and systemic failure, as its overcrowded conditions sharply contrast with its historical grandeur.
The asylum process is marked by extended waiting periods that can last months or years. During this time, migrants must file Form I-589 (Application for Asylum) within one year of their arrival and await immigration court hearings to determine their eligibility. Many face restrictions on employment authorization during this period, which compounds their financial instability. The waiting period often severely impacts mental health, with studies revealing high levels of anxiety, depression, and PTSD among asylum seekers due to prolonged uncertainty about their legal status, isolation from family and community support networks.
The bureaucratic process for asylum seekers in the United States is can be considered messy due to systemic inefficiencies, resource limitations, and the overwhelming scale of need.
Bureaucratic systems create additional barriers for asylum seekers. Language barriers complicate communication with staff at intake centers and social security offices. Limited access to legal aid leaves many migrants unprepared for their asylum interviews. Codified processes, such as the use of wristbands for tracking at intake centers, reinforce feelings of dehumanization.
Despite these challenges, grassroots organizations and diasporic communities play a vital role in supporting asylum seekers. Local residents organize clothing drives, food distributions, and other essential services at sites like Brigid’s Respite Center.
The Statue of Liberty. Allan Cash Picture Library / Alamy Stock Photo
Historical: Ellis Island
the Power of lady liberty
Spaces like Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty historically symbolized hope and opportunity for immigrants coming to the United States. However, modern bureaucratic spaces like Brigid’s Respite Center and the Roosevelt Hotel stand in stark contrast to this narrative. They function more as sites of liminality—where individuals are neither fully included nor entirely excluded—rather than welcoming environments. Interestingly, Ellis Island was seen as a welcoming place, while serving as a key historical precedent of the waiting room.
The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Roosevelt Hotel
The Roosevelt Hotel, a Beaux-Arts landmark built in 1924, was repurposed in May 2023 as New York City’s first centralized asylum intake center. Once a symbol of luxury and sophistication, it now serves as a processing hub for newly arrived migrants. It is often referred to as the modern day Ellis Island.
This location provides legal, medical, and social services to asylum seekers. It also offers temporary housing for families and individuals transitioning to other shelters. Ideally and conceptually, the facility is designed to process migrants quickly—registering them, conducting health screenings, and connecting them with case managers—but its capacity is often exceeded.
The city has recently introduced limits on how long migrants can stay at shelter sites (30 or 60 days), leading to faster turnover but also increased uncertainty for those affected.
Long lines regardless of season.
Waiting period: Like Brigid’s Respite Center, migrants experience a waiting period while their cases are processed or while they await placement in longer-term accommodations.
6.
1. arrival at the intake center: Newly arrived asylum seekers are directed to the Roosevelt Hotel, which serves as a centralized intake center for New York City.
2. registration and identification: Migrants are registered upon arrival. Information such as their name, family size, and immediate needs is collected. Wristbands are issued to track individuals within the building and ensure proper management.
3. health screenings: Migrants are led to a designated health clinic within the hotel for medical evaluations. This includes screenings for diseases, vaccinations, and mental health assessments. Over 70,000 vaccines have reportedly been administered since the center opened.
Despite its historical grandeur, the hotel has been transformed into a functional space prioritizing efficiency over comfort.
4. case management: Each migrant is assigned a case manager who helps them navigate next steps in their journey. This includes assistance with legal paperwork for asylum applications and connections to social services. If migrants have family or friends in other states, case managers coordinate transport.
5. temporary housing assignment: Migrants requiring shelter are assigned temporary housing either within the Roosevelt Hotel (up to 850 rooms) or in one of New York City’s many emergency shelters or humanitarian relief centers. Families and children are prioritized for available rooms within the hotel.
Processing in the roosevelt hotel
Brigid’s Respite Center
Located in the former St. Brigid’s Catholic School in the East Village, the respite center was established in May 2023 to address the surge in migrants arriving in New York City. The building, previously closed since 2019, was repurposed as a temporary site for migrants awaiting placement in shelters or other accommodations.
Brigid’s Respite Center operates as a transitional space, often described as a “waiting room” for migrants. It provides cots for sleeping and basic necessities but lacks essential amenities such as showers or laundry facilities. Migrants are processed here and directed to other shelters or services, though overcrowding and resource limitations frequently result in confusion and frustration.
As a result of these difficult waiting times for being re-processed, many single migrants end up craMPed waiting areas or outside of res
Unlike the Roosevelt Hotel, Brigid’s Respite is far more grassroots, with volunteers assisting with access to basic living necessities.
Theoretical Framework
feminist critical theory: Emerging from 20th-century social movements, feminist critical theory examines systemic power structures and gender dynamics. While pioneers like Simone de Beauvoir laid the groundwork for understanding gender as a social construct, contemporary scholars such as bell hooks and Judith Butler have expanded this framework to interrogate intersectional oppression. The theory’s evolution mirrors a crucial shift from Western-centric feminism to a more inclusive framework that acknowledges diverse experiences of gender oppression.
decolonized design: Building on post-colonial scholarship by Walter Mignolo, Irene Chang, and Anibal Quijano, decolonized design transcends mere critique to actively reconstruct design practices. Rather than simply opposing colonial influences, it seeks to resurrect and reimagine indigenous design methodologies. The framework examines how vernacular architecture and local craftsmanship embody cultural knowledge systems that preceded colonization. Contemporary manifestations of this approach are evident in social media’s role in cultural preservation, where traditional practices find new platforms for transmission and celebration. This theory fundamentally challenges Western design principles by demonstrating how indigenous materials and methodologies often offer more contextually appropriate and sustainable solutions.
homemaking: Maria S. Giudici’s “Counterplanning from the Kitchen” reconceptualizes domestic space as a site of political and social transformation. This theoretical framework extends beyond conventional architectural concerns to examine how spatial organization reflects and reinforces social relationships. By positioning homemaking as a political act, this theory reveals how domestic design can either perpetuate or challenge existing power structures.
transboundary self-determination: Harum Mukhayer’s innovative framework examines how political borders intersect with cultural continuity. This theory particularly illuminates how communities maintain identity and connection across imposed boundaries. Its application extends beyond literal borders to examine how cultural spaces persist within and despite physical constraints, offering crucial insights for understanding displaced communities’ spatial practices.
Creative Practice Research
My creative practice research has centered on exploring the intersections of diaspora, feminist critical theory, decolonizing design, and displacement through tangible and symbolic acts of homemaking, storytelling, and cultural preservation. This process has allowed me to critically engage with how displaced individuals— particularly women—navigate systemic inequities while asserting agency in transitional spaces.
Through projects like the diasporic cookbook, I have documented recipes as vessels of memory, connecting diasporic communities to their cultural heritage while fostering intergenerational continuity. Similarly, the headscarf (ohnri) project uses textiles as a medium for storytelling, embedding ancestral imagery and traditional Indian embroidery techniques into contemporary design. These creative practices emphasize how objects and material culture serve as tools for resilience amidst displacement.
My research also critiques the material and relational conditions of bureaucratic spaces, such as Brigid’s Respite Center and the Roosevelt Hotel Asylum Intake Center, which often perpetuate colonial hierarchies and dehumanizing processes. By reimagining these spaces through vernacular materials and culturally sensitive design interventions, I aim to propose environments that prioritize dignity, belonging, and healing.
Inspired by thinkers like Aníbal Quijano and Walter Mignolo, my work integrates decolonial frameworks that challenge Eurocentric knowledge systems while amplifying marginalized voices. Feminist critical theory further informs my analysis by reframing homemaking practices as acts of care, resistance, and empowerment within patriarchal systems.
Ultimately, my creative practice research seeks to transform transitional spaces into sites of cultural preservation and identity reclamation. By engaging with diasporic communities and their stories, I aim to create designs that honor their histories while envisioning hopeful futures.
Learning from the Earth
creaTive pracTice research
At the intersection of studio practice and academic research, I discovered a profound narrative of cultural resilience through earthen floors. While I did not directly replicate the traditional Lipay technique—a mixture of cow dung, clay, and water historically used in Trinidad and Tobago—I was profoundly influenced by the concept of learning from native and vernacular practices. Earthen materials in construction predate industrialization and reflect a deep connection to the land and cultural heritage.
These materials represent more than a building technique; they are a living archive of cultural wisdom embodying an intrinsic relationship with landscape and tradition. Their significance extends beyond mere construction, challenging the systematic undermining of indigenous knowledge by colonial narratives that dismissed local practices as primitive or inferior. Edward Said’s concept of Orientalism echoes through this history, where non-Western practices were marginalized, exoticized, and rendered invisible.
The Lipay technique, used by my great-grandmother, tells a story of cultural resilience. As concrete became the preferred material, Lipay was branded as “backward” and associated with the “coolie” class—a dismissive colonial categorization that sought to devalue indigenous practices. By revisiting these materials, I
aim to challenge these narratives and acknowledge the sophisticated knowledge systems that were suppressed.
This exploration is inherently political. Like the rammed earth projects in Brazil’s Biennale Architecture Exhibition, my work represents a form of resistance against industrialized construction methods. It is an intentional act of reclaiming and centering indigenous knowledge, transforming design from a colonial practice to a decolonial dialogue.
Particularly significant is the matrilineal nature of this knowledge. Earthen floors were a construction technique and a form of cultural preservation passed down through generations of women in the East Indian diaspora. By engaging with these practices, I honor the women who maintained these traditions in the face of systemic erasure. This becomes a feminist act of resistance, challenging dominant narratives in architecture and society.
Decolonization in design is not merely about aesthetic or technical choices—it is about listening to the land, respecting Indigenous wisdom, and recognizing the profound knowledge embedded in vernacular practices. Each handful of earth, each carefully mixed Lipay floor, is a statement of cultural continuity and resilience.
TradiTional meThod of lipay
TradiTional meThod of lipay
making The earTh floor
A Stitch in Time
creaTive pracTice research
The intricate art of darning is a profound metaphor for cultural resilience. It is a practice that transcends mere textile repair to become an act of preserving identity and memory. For displaced communities, clothing is far more than fabric and thread; it is a tangible connection to heritage, a living archive of personal and collective histories.
Mending garments is a generational ritual passed down through intimate moments of shared labor, particularly among women. When my mother and grandmother taught me to crochet doilies, they were doing more than instructing me in a craft—weaving our family’s narrative into each delicate stitch. These practices represent homemaking as an act of care, resilience, and survival, challenging the disposable nature of modern consumerism.
In my creative exploration, I recreate the traditional ohnri (headscarf) worn by my ancestors. This garment once signified modesty and respect and was ironically deemed old-fashioned by the British during Trinidad’s march toward independence. By incorporating photographs, embroidery, and carefully patched fabric, I honor the complex layers of my cultural identity. Each stitch becomes a statement, each patch a testimony to survival.
The act of darning is inherently political. Through the lens of feminist critical theory and decolonizing design, mending becomes a form of resistance against oppressive structures. The visible and invisible stitches tell a story of adaptation, of maintaining dignity in the face of displacement. They reject the narrative of erasure, instead celebrating the journey of a garment—and, by extension, a people.
In cultures where fast fashion and consumerism are not privileged, clothing repair is more than an economic necessity; it is a profound act of cultural preservation. The wear and tear celebrated in each mended piece speaks to resilience—each thread is a connection to a history that refuses to be forgotten. By darning, making, and sewing, I reclaim narratives that might otherwise be lost, stitching together identity fragments in unfamiliar spaces.
Ultimately, this practice is an artistic expression of survival. It challenges us to see beyond the surface and recognize that cultural heritage is not static but dynamically maintained through acts of care, creativity, and conscious preservation. Every mended garment lies a story of continuity, of identity restored and reimagined.
ma, my greaT greaT grandmoTher
my grandparenTs on Their wedding day
maimi, my paTernal greaT grandmoTher
family porTraiT
making of The ohnri
baskeT weaving wiTh sari cloTh
The Diasporic Cookbook
pracTice research
The diasporic cookbook project is a collaborative endeavor that critically explores how food serves as a vessel for memory, cultural preservation, and identity, especially in the context of displacement. By gathering recipes, stories, and images from loved ones and community members, this project documents culinary traditions and engages with deeper themes of belonging, homemaking, and oral history—all central to my thesis.
Food, as one of the most powerful ways to maintain a connection to their homeland, carries a profound emotional significance. Recipes, far from mere instructions for preparing meals, are cultural artifacts brimming with memories, emotions, and histories. For those undergoing displacement, cooking traditional meals becomes an act of cultural preservation and resistance, aiding in the re-creation of a sense of home in unfamiliar surroundings. Cookbooks serve as repositories for these memories, preserving them for future generations while reflecting how diasporic communities adapt and evolve in new environments.
This project connects to my thesis theme of homemaking as a practice, particularly for women. For many displaced women, cooking is one of the few ways to maintain a sense of control and continuity during times of upheaval. By inviting contributors to share their recipes and the stories behind them, I aim to preserve memories and
solidify often oral traditions. This is a vital method through which displaced communities pass down knowledge and preserve their heritage. The exercise encourages storytelling through food, allowing individuals to reflect on what “home” means and how they navigate feelings of belonging or alienation in their new environments.
Furthermore, this project aligns with my interest in vernacular practices. Many of the recipes I will collect are likely rooted in traditional methods passed down through generations. By documenting these methods, I am preserving cultural knowledge that might otherwise be lost due to displacement. The cookbook, in this light, becomes more than just a collection of recipes; it is an archive that captures the resilience and adaptability of diasporic communities, a testament to the richness of their cultural heritage.
To summarize, the diasporic cookbook expands my research by opening new layers of inquiry into how food functions as both a practical necessity and a symbolic act of cultural preservation. It allows me to engage directly with communities while exploring how displaced individuals maintain connections to their past through everyday practices like cooking. This project enriches my understanding of displacement and provides a tangible way to document and celebrate the diverse culinary traditions that shape diasporic identities.
creaTive
Do you see food as a way of preserving your cultural identity? Why or why not?
Yes, because food and ingredients of dishes are connected to the land. People use what is available in their surroundings and that becomes a part of their cultural data so to speak. What makes us uniquely different, gives us agency, and becomes a strong marker of cultural identity is the how and why we develop the foods we consume. Food is why people can be displaced from a place of origin and still retain a sense of cultural knowing.
Please share a recipe that holds meaning to you.
Stew Peas (vegetarian) - contains red beans, thyme, garlic, scallion, coconut milk, salt, pimento seed, bay leaf, black pepper, scotch bonnet pepper, and includes dumplings made with whole wheat flour. Traditionally this is made with pigs tail or smoked turkey neck, but this version does not contain meat for a lower lower cholesterol option, and includes whole wheat in the dumpling flour mix for a higher fiber/ lower sugar alternative.
Diri Ak Kalalou (rice w/ okra) - contains Epis (a pre-blended staple homemade Haitian spice containing cloves, leeks, bell pepper, bell pepper, garlic, red onion, thyme scotch bonnet pepper, salt). Epis is foundational spice of Haitian cooking, used as a base to either season meat and/or prepare in hot oil before cooking. In this case, it is simply sauteed along with tomato paste to which you add the okra and cook for several minutes, then add water and rice w/ a scotch bonnet to simmer.
What does home mean to you now?
Humble beginnings, growth, history, love, elementary school, family, friends, neighbors, snow-cone man, doubles man, the old guy that would go house to house fixing enamel pots, my neighbor taking me to school on his bicycle.
Does this dish remind you of a specific person, place, or event? If so, please share.
It reminds me of simpler times when I’d go with my parents and eat this very informally on a fig leaf.
[Excerpts from the Survey]
bami goreng
sTew peas
sada roTi
Context & Community: The Infrastructure of Displacement
new YorK, nY
The landscape of displacement in New York City reveals complex intersections of power, community resilience, and spatial politics. This community and context research examines how bureaucratic spaces – from airports to social security offices – shape the experiences of displaced communities while simultaneously exploring how community-anchored spaces like mosques, churches, and beauty salons serve as sites of resistance and belonging.
The historical context of New York City as a gateway for immigrants has evolved from Ellis Island’s symbolic promise of opportunity to today’s network of processing centers and temporary shelters. This evolution reflects broader shifts in how the state manages and controls migration, mainly through what feminist scholar Sara Ahmed describes as “the politics of waiting.” The Roosevelt Hotel, now dubbed the “new Ellis Island,” exemplifies this transformation – from a symbol of luxury to a processing center where asylum seekers navigate complex bureaucratic systems.
When examining these spaces through a decolonial framework, it is apparent how institutional architecture reinforces power dynamics inherited from colonial systems. The design of social security offices, DMVs, and intake centers prioritizes surveillance and control over dignity and human connection. As mentioned in the case studies, design is not for the end user but rather for the sake of efficiency and control.
However, within this landscape of control, communities have created alternative spaces of care and resistance. Mosques and churches, particularly in neighborhoods in Brooklyn, serve as crucial nodes of support for displaced communities. These religious institutions often function beyond their spiritual role, becoming impromptu legal clinics, food distribution centers, funeral homes and gathering spaces where displaced individuals can maintain cultural practices and build new networks of support.
The spatial politics at play become evident when mapping these contrasting en-
vironments. While government-run facilities maintain rigid hierarchies through physical barriers, security checkpoints, and standardized processing procedures, community spaces emphasize collaborative relationships and flexible use of space. A mosque might transform from a prayer space to a makeshift shelter, demonstrating how community-driven design responds to immediate needs rather than bureaucratic protocols. (See image above)
Economic structures significantly impact these spatial dynamics. While billions are spent on emergency shelters and processing centers, community organizations operate on limited budgets, often relying on grassroot volunteer networks and donations.
Through participatory research methods that center on the experiences of displaced communities, this study starts by documenting oppressive nature of bureaucratic spaces and the transformative potential of community-anchored alternatives. By mapping and diagramming the process to belonging
within these bureaucratic and constricting infrastructures, the aim is to better understand how design can reinforce or resist colonial power structures in the context of contemporary migration.
This analysis will inform potential sites for intervention in the spring, focusing particularly on spaces where bureaucratic systems intersect with community-driven initiatives. These sites might include:
• The areas surrounding major intake centers, where informal networks of support emerge.
• Religious institutions that have adapted their spaces to serve displaced communities.
• Transitional zones where asylum seekers move between institutional and community space.
• Beauty salons and other informal gathering places that foster cultural continuity.
informal sleeping area for asylum seekers in mcc, a mosque in brooklyn.
2. transPortation
Migrants are bused to NYC like Texas as part of state or through personal travel
5. case ManageMent and meet with caseworkers who their legal status and next application process, assist migrants wish to reunite provide referrals for legal help prepare asylum applications.
to nyc
nyc and initial PlaceMent: NYC from border states state relocation programs travel arrangements.
legal assistance: Migrants who help them understand next steps in the asylum assist with transportation if with family or friends, and legal aid organizations that can applications.
Processing of Asylum Seekers
3. first stoP: Many migrants are directed to intake centers or temporary respite sites.
wristbands becoMe a code by which Migrants are referred by.
4. registration and health screenings: Migrants undergo a registration process, where their personal details are recorded. They receive wristbands for tracking within the facility. Health screenings are conducted to check for diseases and administer vaccinations. Mental health screenings are performed for individuals showing signs of trauma or depression.
roosevelT hoTel asylum inTake cenTer
brigid’s respiTe cenTer
The Path to Residency
7. filing for asyluM: Within one year of arrival in the U.S., migrants must submit Form I-589 (Asylum Application) to USCIS or during their first immigration court hearing.Filing triggers eligibility for an Employment Authorization Document (EAD), but work permits can take months to process due to backlogs.
8. waiting Period: After filing for asylum, migrants enter a prolonged waiting period that can last several Months or years due to backlogged immigration courts, delays in processing work permits and asylum applications.
9. iMMigration court hearings: Migrants attend hearings at immigration courts where they present their asylum cases before a judge. They must prove a credible fear of persecution based on race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or membership in a particular social group. Legal representation is critical but not guaranteed; many rely on nonprofit organizations.
10. decision on asyluM aPPlication:
aPProval: The migrant is granted asylum status, allowing them to apply for permanent residency after one year.
denial: The migrant may appeal the decision or face deportation proceedings.
Grief as a Central Experience of Displacement
The Weight of Silence
In backyard shadows, autumn 1924— or was it spring? No one remembers now. Seven children’s mother, shopkeeper’s wife, her name a whisper lost between the years.
They say she was just tired. Tired like the moon is tired of pulling tides, like earth is tired of turning. Eight lives had bloomed beneath her heart, this last one breaking it.
The choice she made behind closed doors speaks volumes of her love— sometimes to mother is to leave, to spare, to carry burdens heavier than birth.
They buried more than her that nameless day: buried her story, marked it with their shame, while seven children wondered why the sky had swallowed up their mother. Her widower filled the silence with a new wife’s voice, but some gaps can’t be filled with substitutes.
Displacement often involves profound grief—not only for the physical loss of home but for the intangible losses of identity, community, and a sense of belonging. This grief is compounded by the circumstances under which many leave their homes: war, persecution, or economic instability.
Displaced individuals often mourn: Who they once were. The lives they left behind: Familiar routines, cultural practices, and relationships are disrupted. Loved ones: Many leave family members behind or lose them during migration.
This mourning process is unique because it occurs at a distance, often without closure. Unlike tradi-
A century later, her great-granddaughter unearths her truth like artifacts of bone: each fragment telling tales of weariness, of strength, of desperation’s quiet hands.
She was no failure—she was simply human, caught in systems larger than herself, her body just a battleground of choice.
We grieve her now across the decades’ span, this woman who kept shop and kept her home, who loved and worked and reached her breaking point alone.
Her story echoes through the years in every mother’s exhausted sigh, in every choice made in the dark of night,in every silence finally breaking open.
Let history record: she was not shame. She was a woman, full of life and dreams, who carried weights we’ll never fully know. Her story matters. Let us speak her truth and hold her memory gentle in our hands, like water, like forgiveness, like a prayer.
tional mourning rituals that allow individuals to grieve collectively, those who are displaced must process their grief in isolation and in unfamiliar environments.
the role of objects in Mourning Objects play a complex role during displacement, balancing practical necessity with emotional significance. While displaced individuals prioritize essential items like documents and clothing, these objects often take on an important symbolic value relating to home and identity. For instance, a photograph can serve as a connection to loved ones left behind, while a cooking utensil allows for the recreation of familiar tastes and memories.
23rd Regiment Armory (Brooklyn)
Brigid’s Respite Center (East Village)
Roosevelt Hotel
Ellis Island Immigration Museum
JFK Airport
Underutilized Office Buildings in Manhattan
Framework for Site Selection
In developing a framework for site selection, it was essential to identify spaces that reflect the themes of displacement, bureaucracy, waiting, and cultural preservation within New York City. This framework focuses on the lived experiences of displaced individuals, particularly asylum seekers.
A critical aspect of this framework is the role of community and the support it can provide for those navigating waiting rooms and transitional spaces. Diasporic communities and places of worship emerge as vital resources for displaced individuals, offering support systems beyond bureaucratic processes. These spaces foster a sense of belonging, cultural continuity, and emotional resilience for those in liminal states. Therefore, it is crucial to consider proximity to transportation hubs, diasporic communities, and larger support systems that provide amenities such as legal aid, housing assistance, and mental health services in site selection.
Selected Sites for Intervention
23rd Regiment Armory (Brooklyn): This historic military building has been repurposed as an emergency shelter for asylum seekers. It is situated near diasporic communities and is heavily engaged with the asylum-seeking population.
Brigid’s Respite Center (East Village): This temporary holding site is located in a repurposed Catholic school building, reflecting NYC’s response to displacement and its reliance on community-driven support.
Roosevelt Hotel Asylum Intake Center (Midtown Manhattan): This centralized intake hub offers legal aid, health screenings, and temporary housing. It symbolizes the juxtaposition of historical significance and contemporary functionality and is often referred to as the modern-day Ellis Island.
JFK Airport (Port of Entry): Serving as the initial point of contact for asylum seekers entering NYC, this site embodies themes of surveillance, control, and the codification of spatial layouts.
Ellis Island Immigration Museum: This historical site represents the story of America’s immigrants, contrasting with contemporary bureaucratic spaces like intake centers.
Underutilized Office Buildings in Manhattan: This presents an opportunity to reimagine vacant office spaces as transitional housing or community hubs for displaced individuals.
Opportunities for Intervention
This framework also identifies the opportunity to create a networked infrastructure that connects these sites through shared resources and services:
• Utilizing underutilized office buildings in Manhattan to address NYC’s housing shortage for asylum seekers.
• Strengthen collaborations between bureaucratic spaces (e.g., intake centers) and community hubs (e.g., diasporic organizations or faith-based shelters).
Annotated Bibliography
Decolonization
Cheng, Irene, Charles L. Davis, and Mabel O. Wilson, eds. Race and Modern Architecture: A Critical History from the Enlightenment to the Present. University of Pittsburgh Press, 2020. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv11cwbg7.
This book was published in 2020, at the beginning of the global pandemic and when racial tensions from the aftermath of George Floyd were present in society. Irene Cheng, Charles Davis, and Mabel Wilson are US-based researchers and thus lead with an American academic perspective, focusing on the intersections of race and architecture. The book looks at the intersection of race and architecture from the Enlightenment to the present. It brings to light how race, with its ideologies and biases, has informed architectural practice and theory. By looking at how race has historically informed architectural practice, there is a hope to learn more about how these legacies might persist today. The research mentions that the book offers a decolonial perspective by calling for reconsidering architectural history to include marginalized voices and experiences.
Post-Colonial Theory
Vimalassery, Manu, Juliana Hu Pegues, and Alyosha Goldstein. “Introduction: On Colonial Unknowing.” Theory & Event 19, no. 4 (2016) https://muse.jhu.edu/article/633283.
Manu Vimalassery, Juliana Hu Pegues, and Alyosha Goldstein are scholars of American studies. They share research interests in critical race theory, Indigenous studies, and postcolonial studies. The journal article discusses “colonial unknowing,” the deliberate ignorance and refusal to recognize the connections between race and colonization. It critiques how colonialism has shaped the historical narrative. The article challenges the reader to analyze contemporary knowledge systems to see the lingering effects of colonial powers and narratives embedded within the codes of society.
The 2016 article critiques how contemporary knowledge production erases or ignores the bias of forgotten narratives in colonial histories. It was written amid growing calls for Indigenous rights and decolonization in academia. This relates to the general interest in how postcolonial issues about my ancestors and women, in general, are hard to find. As a result, it involves relying on oral histories and image archives.
Mignolo, Walter D. 1998. The Darker Side of the Renaissance. Ann Arbor: Univ. Of Michigan Press.
Walter D. Mignolo is an Argentine scholar and a key figure in decolonial theory and postcolonial studies. His research primarily focuses on how European Renaissance ideals and colonialism are intertwined and how these ideas have shaped modern knowledge systems. “The Darker Side of the Renaissance” examines the imposition of European epistemologies (theories of knowledge or ways of thinking) on Indigenous cultures during colonization. Mignolo critiques the Eurocentric perspective of history and emphasizes the need to recover and value marginalized knowledge.
This article has been essential in realizing that many ideas of space planning and place-making are Western constructs that made ideas of vernacular seem backward and too traditional. This relates to practices of making traditional foods, learning native dances and songs, and practices related to homemaking, like lepay (using cow manure in floor finishing).
Quijano, Anibal, and Michael Ennis. “Coloniality of Power, Eurocentrism, and Latin America.” Nepantla: Views from South 1, no. 3 (2000): 533-580. https://muse.jhu. edu/article/23906.
Anibal Quijano, a Peruvian sociologist, is considered one of the foremost thinkers on the “coloniality of power” and critical theory related to Latin America. Michael Ennis translated the journal entry into English. The article introduces “coloniality of power” as a manner of control and capitalization of global power that started with the colonization of the Americas and the development of Eurocentric capitalist ideals. His concept has more broadly influenced decolonial studies, Latin American critical thought, and postcolonial theory.
Roy, Arundhati. (1997) 1997. The God of Small Things. New York: Random House Trade Paperbacks, An Imprint Of Random House, A Division Of Penguin Random House LLC.
Arundhati Roy is an Indian author and activist whose novel, The God of Small Things, set in Kerala, India, examines the profound impact of colonialism, caste, and social inequality on a family’s life. Roy’s work is shaped by her experiences growing up in postcolonial India, where the legacy of British rule continues to exert a powerful influence. The novel challenges readers to critique and question the systems of control and inequality that persist in postcolonial societies—systems that are no longer enforced by colonial or Western powers but perpetuated by the people who maintain these hierarchies and stigmas against those deemed ‘below’ them. Roy’s narrative critiques the lingering effects of colonial power dynamics in contemporary society and explores how these forces intersect with local traditions, family structures, and individual identities.
Orientalism
Said, Edward W. Orientalism. Penguin Modern Classics. London, England: Penguin Classics, 1978.
Edward Said was a Palestinian-American scholar and a prominent advocate for Palestinian rights. Throughout his life, he navigated the complex tensions between Eastern and Western values, which added depth to his perspective and authority as a foundational voice on the concept of Orientalism. His book, Orientalism, is seminal in postcolonial studies, offering a critical analysis of how the West has historically constructed and represented the “Orient” as exotic, backward, and inferior. Said’s work is crucial for understanding how these representations have been used to justify colonial domination and continue to shape perceptions of the Middle East and other non-Western societies.
This seminal work is essential in understanding how Orientalism caused a marginalization of knowledge, as mentioned by Walter Mignolo. For example, in Trinidad, women were fetishized by the British colonial authorities by being photographed and used on postcards. These women were called ‘coolie women,’ a slur that meant to make them seem like an exotic object that proved the success of British colonization and thriving sugarcane plantations.
Displaced Peoples
Beeckmans, Luce, Alessandra Gola, Ashika Singh, and Hilde Heynen, eds. Making Home(s) in Displacement: Critical Reflections on a Spatial Practice. Leuven University Press, 2022. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv25wxbvf.
Published in 2022, Making Home(s) in Displacement: Critical Reflections on a Spatial Practice is written by scholars from different disciplines, such as architecture, urban, and migration studies. The common thread among the writings and authors is exploring how displaced people from various parts of the world create a sense of ‘home’ and belonging in transient spaces and places. It places these senses within contemporary geopolitical conflicts like the global refugee crisis and forced migration. Chapter 8, “Years in the Waiting Room,” is a critical chapter that defines my research. It explores the endless cycle of waiting as embodied in space and different temporalities.
Viet Thanh Nguyen, Joseph Azam, David Bezmozgis, Fatima Bhutto, Thi Bui, Ariel Dorfman, Lev Golinkin, et al. 2019. The Displaced: Refugee Writers on Refugee Lives. New York: Abrams Press.
Viet Nguyen, a Pulitzer Prize-winning author who is called “one of our great chroniclers of displacement” (Joyce Carol Oates, The New Yorker), brought together 17 writers from Mexico, Bosnia, Iran, Afghanistan, Soviet Ukraine, Hungary, Chile, Ethiopia, and elsewhere to make their stories heard. This novel is considered a powerful dispatch from
the individual lives behind current headlines relating to law and policy; countries with the means to welcome refugees, anti-immigration politics, and fear seem poised to shut the door. Even for readers seeking help, the sheer scale of the problem renders the experience of refugees hard to comprehend.
List of contributors: Joseph Azam, David Bezmozgis, Fatima Bhutto, Thi Bui, Ariel Dorfman, Lev Golinkin, Reyna Grande, Meron Hadero, Aleksandar Hemon, Joseph Kertes, Porochista Khakpour, Marina Lewycka, Maaza Mengiste, Dina Nayeri, Vu Tran, Novuyo Rosa Tshuma, Kao Kalia Yang.
Vernacular Architecture + Making
Fuentes, José. “Challenges and Current Research Trends for Vernacular Architecture in a Global World: A Literature Review.” Buildings. (2023) 13. 162. 10.3390/buildings13010162.
Sense of Belonging
Lluís Alexandre Casanovas Blanco. 2016. After Belonging: The Objects, Spaces, and Territories of the Ways We Stay in Transit. Zurich: Lars Müller Publishers.
Lluís Alexandre Casanovas Blanco is a New York-based architect, curator, and scholar. He is a PhD Candidate in the Architectural History and Theory Program at Princeton University. The publication is the result of the work and research leading up to the Oslo Architecture Triennale 2016 and is the official triennial publication.
After Belonging examines how migration and mobility affect notions of home and belonging, focusing on the material and spatial practices of those constantly in transit. It provides a critical perspective on how transient states shape human experiences and the creation of spaces that reflect these conditions. The book examines our attachment to places and the objects we produce, own, share, and exchange.
Naipaul, V S. 2001. A House for Mr. Biswas. New York: Vintage Books
V.S. Naipaul, a Trinidadian-British writer of Indian descent, penned A House for Mr. Biswas in 1961. The novel delves into the struggles of identity and belonging in postcolonial Trinidad, within a society coming to terms with its colonial past and striving for self-definition.
A key theme of the novel is Mr. Biswas’ deep sense of alienation, which begins at birth (he was born with six fingers) and continues throughout his life (as a poor person born into a high or worthy caste). Another central theme is Mr. Biswas’ quest to establish an authentic identity and attain independence from the oppressive Tulsi family, who embody traditional values and communal living. The novel mirrors colonial Trinidad’s changing social and cultural landscape, capturing the conflict between modernity and tradition—
Mr. Biswas embodies an emerging individualistic mindset, often conflicting with the Tulsi family’s commitment to collectivism.
This novel encapsulates the intergenerational grief and trauma experienced in the Indo-Caribbean diaspora. Its genuine yearning for self-determination against traditional values illustrates the inherent disconnect. The Lion House, a cultural symbol on the main road in Chaguanas, Trinidad, reminds me of my ancestors’ journeys to start anew.
Rituals in Interiority/Feminist Theory and Critique
Bahadur, Gaiutra. 2013. Coolie Woman, the Odyssey of Indenture. University Of Chicago Press.
This novel tells the story of the author’s great-grandmother, who journeyed from Bihar, India, to Guyana to work as an indentured servant on the sugar cane plantations. In the novel, Bahadur not only shares her great-grandmother’s story but also sheds light on the repressed history of around a quarter of a million other coolie women, providing insight into their complex lives. The term ‘coolie’ is considered derogatory, as colonizers used it to refer to women from India and China who worked on plantations. This book highlights the forgotten histories of the women who came as indentured laborers and their reconciliation with displacement, poverty, sexuality, womanhood, and assimilation.
What’s intriguing is how this book reflects my family’s history: my 3rd-great-grandmother, pregnant and alone, traveled by boat to work on a sugar cane plantation. She was told that her husband would join her, but to this day, we are unsure if this was meant to coerce her or if he ever made it out of India. It raises questions of whether she was a victim of human trafficking and domestic abuse - why would she leave India alone and pregnant?
Toni Morrison, an African American author, won the Nobel Prize for Literature for her work in the Beloved trilogy. As described by the Laureate committee, “who in novels characterized by visionary force and poetic import, gives life to an essential aspect of American reality.”
Beloved was published in 1987 and won the Pulitzer Prize for Literature. It is based on the life of Margaret Garner, who escaped with her family from slavery in Kentucky to Ohio. The book is written with magical realism, which addresses the trauma of slavery and its intergenerational effects—the novel centers on the experiences of African American women. While the book helps readers understand how narratives of slavery and freedom are shaped by both gender and race, it offers a profound critique of the historical silencing of marginalized voices.
Sylvia Plath’s poem “Daddy,” written in 1962, is a personal reflection that delves into themes of displacement and patriarchal oppression. Plath’s alienation from her father symbolizes a broader psychological displacement. She feels trapped by his oppressive influence, which mirrors the restrictive structures of patriarchy and the perpetuation of gender roles at this time.
The Waiting Room
“A Broken House” — Re-Creating the Syria of His Memories, through Miniatures. Directed by Jimmy Goldblum. The New Yorker, 2021.
“The architecture was telling the stories of those who lived within, found in the layers of Damascus…A little light bulb went off in my head… if you can’t get home, why don’t you make it home? People got sick of seeing dead bodies as a sign of empathy. I get it. I did, too. How many more dead bodies could you see? There was a fire inside me to start humanizing refugees and telling their stories…
We come from established lives. We had lives...
Marathi is a Welsh word that has no direct translation to English. It describes a state of extreme homesickness to a homeland that no longer or has never existed…
The news did not show what we were losing culturally. Undoubtedly, human life is the most expensive price in conflicts—no question. But there is also something to weep about when you see a 1000-year-old minaret being bombed out of existence...
You wipe a nation’s history; you wipe out their architecture. Two generations later, it is as though they never existed. ”
Mohamad Hafez is an architect and artist whose work humanizes the stories of refugees in their homeland by incorporating them into architecture. He uses found objects, paint, and scrap metal to respond to the atrocities of the Syrian war. Hafez’s art depicts cities besieged by civil war to capture the magnitude of the devastation and expose the fragility of human life. Despite the violence of war, his art incorporates verses from the Holy Qur’an, imbuing it with subtle hopefulness. The documentary shows his painful story as a refugee who has been unable to return to his homeland, Syria, and has fragmented his family. His work is often placed within suitcases, which proves a particular temporality and reinforces the temporal meaning of space to displaced people, who usually have only memories as permanent recollections of spaces, places, and culture.
The two-part exhibition showcases textiles from the Helen Louise Allen Textile Collection alongside the artwork of Syrian-born artist and architect Mohamad Hafez and Iraqi-born writer and public speaker Ahmed Badr. Badr collected personal stories of refugees from Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and Sudan. Hafez then recreated war-torn household interiors as miniature dioramas inside suitcases, using these stories as inspiration. The resulting multimedia sculptures encourage viewers to see the Helen Louise Allen Textile Collection objects in a new light.
“Textiles are closely connected to conflict, loss, and cultural survival stories. War can put textile traditions at risk, turning textiles into tools for survival, both as a source of income and as a healing practice for trauma. Together, these sculptures and textiles narrate the story of global conflicts in the twentieth century, commemorating loss and envisioning hopeful futures.”
Green, Leanne, Hannah Vollam, Ana Carden-Coyne, Chrisoula Lionis, and Angeliki Rousseau. 2022. Traces of Displacement: Exhibition Guide.
The “Traces of Displacement” exhibition at the Whitworth Art Gallery explored the intricate narratives of forced displacement through various artistic expressions. From April 2023 to January 2024, the exhibition featured nearly 80 works, including textiles, paintings, and multimedia pieces that reveal stories of conflict, migration, and resilience. Curated with input from individuals who have experienced displacement, the exhibition emphasized the personal and collective trauma, creativity, and politics of asylum. It included historical and contemporary perspectives, addressing events such as colonialism and the slave trade while delving into modern asylum-seeking experiences. Artists used various mediums, including painting, textiles, and poetry, to challenge dominant narratives and share nuanced stories. Collaboration with displaced individuals ensures authentic representation and encourages community dialogue. Notable contributions: Mounira al Solh’s series “I Strongly Believe in the Right to be Frivolous” provides intimate portraits of displaced individuals.
The exhibition brought to light themes that displaced people often face, including detention and displacement, intergenerational trauma (the body is the record), recollection of memories and experiences (after images), the transatlantic slave trade, female empowerment (humanitarianism and gender), the politics of rescue, displacing environments, and threads of displacement. Like the other exhibitions, there is a focus on textiles as a form of storytelling. I’m starting to wonder if it can be considered portable architecture.
Khadeine ali advisor: Maria linares Trelles Fall 2024
