Shrestha
Singh, MDiv ’17
“How do I help people
make meaning when they’ve got marginalized identities, when they’re navigating
multiple identities and worlds? How do I help people make meaning and find ways
of living that are life-giving for themselves?”
Shrestha
Singh grew up in the Bay Area in California. She is the daughter of Indian
immigrants and has an older sister and a pit bull mix named Scout, whom she
loves very much. Shrestha is the Hindu Chaplain at both Wellesley College and
Brandeis University.
Bridge-Building
I
grew up in California. My parents immigrated to the U.S. from India right
before I was born; my mom got on the airplane when she was eight months
pregnant, and then I was born a few weeks later. When it comes to who I am, it
always starts with my parents and my family, because we are close-knit. No
matter how crazy or annoying things get, these are the people I came from,
they’re the people I continue to come from, who share my blood. Any story about
me starts with my parents.
My
life, all the things I care about in the world, and the work I care about doing
is shaped by that experience of growing up with two parents who were
immigrants. I’ve grown up as an American but I also have a strong Indian
identity. I’ve grown up Hindu in a predominantly Christian society. A lot of my
life has been about navigating those tensions of what it means to have one foot
in each world and be a bridge between the two for my parents and also for other
people who don’t know what it’s like to be an immigrant.
My
back always hurts in the morning. This morning I was stretching and was moaning
about my back, and I thought, “Ah, this bridge called my back!” Gloria
Anzaldúa, a Latina Chicana feminist, co-edited a volume with that title—This Bridge Called My Back—about women
of color bridging worlds and creating new worlds in between. It’s funny that I
said that this morning—I feel like a lot of the time, in the work I do, I am
being a bridge.
I
work as the Hindu chaplain at Wellesley and hope to continue that work. I’m
asking, “How do I help people make meaning when they’ve got marginalized
identities, when they’re navigating multiple identities and worlds? How do I
help people make meaning and find ways of living that are life-giving for
themselves?” It’s something I’m trying to figure out. It’s why I do what I do.
My Path to Hindu
Chaplaincy
I
was pre-med in college, and I studied global health and creative writing. I was
doing a lot of activism work, racial justice work during my undergrad, and I
realized that the world of activism can be really toxic at times. There’s a lot
of shaming one another and condemning people who have different views than your
own, forgetting that there are so many beautiful ways that activism can be
done. But I started to feel really burned out by the work, and I realized I
needed something more in my life.
I
happened to meet three people—my friends Max, and Justin, and Chaz—who were all
spiritual in their own way and who really cared about social issues. It was
such a god-send, and I’m so grateful because it shifted my path completely. I
remember feeling a need for some sort of spiritual grounding but also really
not wanting to go near Hinduism. I drifted away from it growing up. I thought there
was a lot of patriarchy, sexism, homophobia, casteism, and general oppression
in Hinduism, and I didn’t want to have anything to do with it, so I rebelled
big time.
Toward
the end of college, I started to get back to a spiritual path. I was talking to
Chaz, my chaplain, and he said, “You need to go to Harvard Divinity School.” I
had never heard of this place. Harvard Divinity School? What is that? I checked
it out, visited, and fell in love with the people I met here. I realized, “Yeah,
this seems right.” Chaz made me feel like I would love to be a chaplain. He has
such a calm, gentle, loving presence in a way that always makes you feel like you’re
loved and that anything is possible.
Mentors
throughout my life have been incredibly important and I would be nowhere
without them. I felt like I wanted to be that type of mentor for other people. And
also, as a South Asian-American, there aren’t that many people who the
children-of-immigrants generation can talk to about issues in a culturally-sensitive
way. That was a major need that I felt in college and in life in general. I’d
like to be that bridge and to support students by standing in both American culture
and in my hyphenated South-Asian identity.
Half
my students don’t even know what a Hindu chaplain is. Being a chaplain has been
a traditionally Christian concept, so, of course, many people are like, “What
do you do?” It can be rough trying to explain what my role is when it isn’t
necessarily an established one, when it’s really just emerging. Recently, I’ve
connected with fellow chaplains not only at Wellesley and Babson, but also at
other campuses in the area. That’s been good for my soul. It helps feeling like
there are people out there who understand this work.
Breaking
the Stigma
I
think I come off as very cheery, happy, and smiley all the time, but mental
health issues, anxiety, and depression have been a big part of my life. I think
it’s important to tell people because I think so much of the time we walk around
thinking, “That person is so happy and great” or “That person never gets mad or
upset.” That’s not true! I want to start breaking the stigma around talking
about this stuff. People are so afraid that they’ll be judged or be seen as less
competent, so I think it’s really important for folks to talk about mental
health and to realize that different people are struggling in different ways. It’s
something I have to remind myself of, too, because I can be so judgmental of
other folks as well. I try to say to myself, “Hey, you have no idea what their
story is.”
Photos:
Laura Krueger