A Reflection on my Solidarity Arts Fellowship Experience
Marissa Wong | She/Her/Hers | Hometown: Sacramento, Sacramento Betsuin | Current location: Los Angeles
August 26, 2022
“The practice of love is the most powerful antidote to the politics of domination.” - bell hooks
Over the past six months, I have had the great privilege of being a part of Vigilant Love’s 2022 Solidarity Arts Fellowship, or SAF. Vigilant Love (VL) is a community organization and grassroots movement in Los Angeles that was formed in 2015 by Japanese and Muslim Americans as a response to the wave of Islamophobic backlash after the San Bernadino shooting.
Photo courtesy of Vigilant Loveʻs Instagram.
Vigilant Love’s mission statement and values are: “#VigilantLOVE creates spaces for connection and grassroots movement to protect the safety and justice of communities impacted by Islamophobia and violence in the greater Los Angeles Area. In the face of cyclical violence, we envision the embodiment of vigilant love amongst generations of multi-ethnic and inter-spiritual community who create pathways to liberation and healing together.” Vigilant Love centers around coalition building, arts, healing, advocacy, direct actions, community education, vigils, and performances, tapping into multiple avenues towards community solidarity, countering Islamophobic policies, and creating real change built from the ground up. One of Vigilant Love’s biggest campaigns is #ServicesNotSurveillance, which:
addresses the racialized profiling and surveillance of Muslim patients in therapy, social work, school counseling, and other related spaces funded by the Department of Homeland Security’s (DHS) Countering Violent Extremism (CVE) program. CVE is a national counter-terrorism program that profiles Muslims as inherently prone to radicalization and depends on local partnerships for community access. This puts Muslims and those impacted by Islamophobia at risk of being placed into a pipeline to incarceration when seeking support from the mental health field. Given the Department of Homeland Security’s misleading rhetoric that purports CVE to be evidenced-based and developed to “keep communities safe”, the majority of mental health providers are not aware of the dangerous risks of this program. To protect our communities against state surveillance, #ServicesNotSurveillance provides tools and training to understand how the national security apparatus endangers the safety, confidentiality and accessibility of trauma-informed mental health care for Muslim communities. As a community of mental health providers and grassroots organizers, Vigilant Love is mobilizing a coalition to protect our most vulnerable spaces, and to resist the rising trend of state surveillance in the mental health field.
- Vigilant Love
Photo courtesy of Vigilant Loveʻs Instagram.
According to Vigilant Love’s website, the Solidarity Arts Fellowship is a “six month program for Japanese & Muslim American young adults between ages 18 and 25 with a desire to build transformative relationships, receive political education, multi-disciplinary arts & healing justice trainings, and creatively organize to resist Islamophobia & white supremacy.” Throughout the fellowship, we had countless creative activities and workshops, including shared poetry writing and movement, pottery, filmmaking, creating Muslim Valentine’s Day cards, and writing exercises. We attended a virtual pilgrimage to Manzanar, Vigilant Love’s annual Bridging Communities Iftar, and Los Angeles’ annual Day of Remembrance. Vigilant Love’s community members and leaders shared so much knowledge regarding their personal experiences with Japanese incarceration, Islamophobia, the state-sanctioned surveillance of Muslims and Muslim Americans, and Islamic Liberation Theology, through powerful storytelling, workshops, and critical thinking activities. Nora Fujita-Yuhas, a 2020 SAF fellow and member of Vigilant Love’s steering committee, says:
The fellowship was truly one of the most formative experiences of my life. Vigilant Love (VL) models what solidarity relationship building looks like inside and out. I think a lot about the phrase describing our liberation being bound up with one another shared in the 1970s by an aboriginal activists group in Queensland. I’ve never been in a space until VL where I could so clearly feel this sense of collective tie and bond. Emotionally, politically, historically, and relationally this connection and understanding is so present in VL. It’s also the only zoom meeting/space that I leave feeling more full and grounded than when I entered. I think this speaks to the unique and critical way VL establishes community virtually. Once I finished the SAF program I knew that I wanted to stay connected with VL as it felt like this was a really special relationship and community.
Since SAF I’ve joined VL’s steering committee and worked supporting SAF programming, the Unpacking and Resisting Anti-Blackness series, and the annual Bridging Communities Iftar! It’s an honor to work alongside folks who value process, community, and solidarity organizing as deeply as the VL community does.
- Nora Fujita-Yuhas (she/her), 2020 SAF fellow
Photo courtesy of Vigilant Loveʻs Instagram.
Finally, SAF was a unique opportunity to meet other young Japanese and Muslim Americans, build community within our shared space, and create long-lasting friendships. Throughout the fellowship, we had countless opportunities to come together and deepen our political education, learn from each other, and grow as young community activists in our shared journey through resisting white supremacy and Islamophobia. Laurel Mayeda, one of the 2022 fellows, says:
So often, healing justice spaces are designed for Black and Indigenous communities, omitting communities uniquely impacted by U.S. imperialism, militarism, and policing. Although necessary and critical in movement building, this is not intersectional. Creating healing justice spaces means building community and listening to voices that are impacted by Islamophobia and state-sanctioned surveillance. SAF bridges this gap with art, somatics, political education, and spirituality/religion. I’m so grateful for witnessing liberation and healing while simultaneously interrogating harmful notions of dominant western religion. Participating in this fellowship was truly a radical act of kindness. -Laurel Mayeda (She/Her), 2022 SAF fellow
The goal of SAF is to “provide rare experiences of deepening one's self-awareness and political analysis, and ultimately, greater solidarity amongst our communities through arts, healing, leadership development, and spiritual resistance,” which I felt was accomplished in our 2022 cohort. Through everyone’s words, art, and other creative endeavors, I felt like I truly came to understand every single fellow on a deeper and more meaningful level. Aria Sergany, the current Programs Coordinator for Vigilant Love, states:
Since I am a new staff member, this was my first Solidarity Arts Fellowship and I felt a little like a fellow myself! The fellowship really brought into new light the import of cross-community solidarity, care, and building toward a better future. I learned so much about the Japanese American experience during WWII, as well as the many connections to the surveillance of Muslim Americans today. It was genuinely beautiful to watch friendships blossom between people with such different backgrounds who had such similar hopes for the world. One of VL’s greatest goals for this program is to continue to foster these relationships, and to create further opportunities to build together despite where life takes the graduating fellows. I’m so grateful to have met the 2022 Solidarity Arts Fellows, and I can’t wait to see what their futures hold and where they can take VL! -Aria Sergany (she/they), VL Programs Coordinator
We opened SAF meetings with community Rajio Taiso, meditations, and/or breathing exercises, which helped to clear our minds from the stress of daily life and enter our shared space together, present in each other’s company. Every activity and workshop was created and envisioned with so much intention and purpose, so although we had limited time together and mostly met over Zoom, the whole experience was so transformative and powerful. Even if I was having a bad day or was not in the right headspace and was dreading sitting on Zoom for a few hours, I came away from every meeting feeling invigorated and inspired, any negative feelings I held beforehand dissipating as soon as I logged into Zoom and saw everyone’s lovely faces and messages. One of the first activities we did at SAF was a name-sharing activity, which was one of Nora’s favorite activities. She says:
I have a couple favorite memories from the program! One is from the very first day when all the fellows were getting introduced to each other and we did an activity sharing the stories and meaning behind our names. My partner for the activity became my first friend in SAF and I remember feeling so vulnerable and connected in our conversation where we shared about our names, our families, and language. Coming out of that activity I already knew that the SAF program would be a special place of connection and love. - Nora Fujita-Yuhas (she/her), 2020 SAF fellow
Another particularly powerful activity we participated in was sharing and writing to objects of resilience. The objects were ones that were important to us or to our family/ancestors and attested to the resilience of us or people important to us. My object of resilience was my grandfather’s silver pendant. On one side it had his name, Kenneth Seichi Otani, and on the other side a Dharma wheel and the words “Namu Amida Butsu” were engraved. I chose this as my object of resilience because during World War II, Buddhist ministers were among the first Japanese Americans sent to incarceration camps, and many Buddhist temples were converted into military bases or were ransacked when Japanese Americans were forced to leave them behind. Many Buddhists hid their religion out of fear that they would be wrongfully incarcerated. In his book American Sutra: A Story of Faith and Freedom in the Second World War, Duncan Ryuken Williams writes:
While it has become commonplace to view their wartime incarceration through the prism of race, the role that religion played in the evaluation of whether or not they could be considered fully American—and, indeed, the rationale for the legal exclusion of Asian immigrants before that—is no less significant. Their racial designation and national origin made it impossible for Japanese Americans to elide into whiteness. But the vast majority of them were also Buddhists; in fact, Japanese Americans constituted the largest group of Buddhists in the United States at the time. The Asian origins of their religious faith meant that their place in America could not be easily captured by the notion of a Judeo-Christian nation (3).
Although my grandpa was only a child during WWII and thankfully was not sent to an incarceration camp, mainly because my family is from Hawaii, this pendant is a testament to my family’s perseverance and unwillingness to conform to the will of the United States, even when it possibly meant incarceration. My family still held onto their Jodo Shinshu heritage even in the midst of religious persecution. Nora also shared with me the importance of this activity to her:
Another favorite memory I have is when we brought in and shared objects of resilience. I brought some pieces of writing from an informal anthology my nisei grandfather wrote after he was diagnosed with cancer and passed before I was born. I remember sitting with another fellow and reading my favorite portion from one of his pieces to them. By the end I was unexpectedly crying pretty hard. Although we had spent only a couple days together I was overwhelmed by how comfortable I felt sharing vulnerably with this person and feeling held and loved by them in that moment. When I re-read my grandfather's writing now, that memory of connection and care I felt from another fellow always resurfaces. - Nora Fujita-Yuhas (she/her), 2020 SAF fellow
Although our time together as the 2022 cohort may have ended, I know that this is just the beginning of some lifelong friendships and beautiful possibilities for where our futures may take us. Sakib Shahriar, a 2022 SAF fellow, says: “Going through the SAF has left me feeling strong and connected. My fellows and our facilitators are all so kind, gentle, attentive, steadfast, committed to continue doing healing and community work with each other. I feel supported by them all!” - Sakib Shahriar (they/them), 2022 SAF fellow.
Photo courtesy of Vigilant Loveʻs Instagram.
It is not an overstatement to say that participating in SAF was life-changing and newly inspired me to re-examine my own views on activism in its multitude of forms. Through hearing about people’s journeys through activism, personal experiences with intergenerational trauma and Islamophobia, and lots of critical self-analysis, I feel as if my views on what activism can be has broadened widely. I now view art as a form of resistance, from the art that Japanese-Americans created in internment camps during WWII to the films of resilience created by Shireen Alihaji, whose radical storytelling helps reclaim narratives from the dominant viewpoint and back into the hands of the people. Building community solidarity when the institutions in this country so often try to pit us against each other is an act of resistance. Joy and love are acts of resistance, especially against dominant narratives such as major news outlets that only seem to talk about tragedies that happen in our communities. With the countless tragedies that occur every single day, it is easy to feel hopeless and that we alone cannot do anything to help. Building on the work and community solidarity of our ancestors, SAF, Vigilant Love, and all of the people involved in them have given me so much hope for our future, and I know that when we all come together in an act of resistance, healing, and care for one another, we can truly create positive change on our world. The people I met through SAF truly are the embodiment of the term ‘Vigilant Love,’ and I hope that through my future actions I come to embody ‘Vigilant Love’ as well.
“The moment we choose to love, we begin to move against domination, against oppression. The moment we choose to love, we begin to move towards freedom, to act in ways that liberate ourselves and others. That action is the testimony of love as the practice of freedom.” - bell hooks
If you are interested in learning more or supporting Vigilant Love and the amazing work that they do, feel free to visit their website: https://www.vigilantlove.org
And keep an eye out for the 2023 Solidarity Arts Fellowship application opening in October 2022!
Special thanks to Aria, Nora, Laurel, and Sakib for their help in writing this article!
