Tell

us where your family was from and what kind of work you do.
I was born in Dhaka, Bangladesh on September 6th. It was in 1971 during the War
for Independence. Originally, my parents are from a region in Bangladesh called
Noakhali. My mothers side of the family is from a region called Feni, and my
paternal is from a place called Maizdee. My grandparents are from there.

I think what really informs my work is my family story. A month after I was born,
my maternal grandmother was a teacher living in public housing. At that time this
was considered a Pakistani establishment. Her home was bombed. We never knew
who was responsible for the attack. I was an infant, so I didnt know what occurred.
Ive tried to get newspaper clippings but it was so long ago. The ceiling collapsed
onto my crib. There was a lot of rubble, but miraculously somehow I managed to
survive. My father and my uncles were digging me out of there. My grandmother
keeps saying Oh, Chaumtoli tho bachtho na. Amra na bachaile, bachto na. I think
that moment is symbolic and it feels like each time that Im living is but for the
grace of Allah or some Divine power. That stuck in my brain as this myth.

My mom shares the story of when she had to have a c-section. She had to hide
around, but also be close to a hospital. All of that tension around 1971 was in the
household. Its so funny because its there, and its not there because of how memory
works.

In 1972, my father was very much involved in left oriented politics. After Sheikh
Mujibur Rahman came into power, he unfortunately, began to attack a lot of leftoriented intellectuals, poets. My father was a poet and one of his friends was killed.
In fear, my father left for the states. My mom recently told me, the crazy thing about
immigration at that time, was if you had some technical skill, they were like heres
your green card! If Im not mistaken, my father either went to the embassy in
Bangladesh or arrived to New York with his green card. This meant he was able to
get access in 1972. Under different circumstances we would be asylees, fleeing the
politics, but because immigration law here was much more open, my father was able
to come in. He studied pharmacy. At that time, a large number of his batchmates
were able to come to America very easily because of that reason. My brother, myself
and my mother followed them later. Its a complicated story, but my parents
separated. From about late elementary to middle school, I was raised by my mother
and lived in Parkchester, in the Bronx. I actually took my law licensing exam sitting
in my Bronx apartment.


What was the reasoning as to Mujibur Rahman targeting leftists at that time?

I probably cant explain it as well as other 1971 scholars, but because Sheikh
Mujibur Rahman came in at such an intense time, he was more of a centrist. There
was a lot of hopes around a socialist oriented new government. One of the
competitors against Sheikh Mujibur was Maulana Bhashani. The term lal salaam

comes from Bhashani, the idea of a Muslim socialist, but at the same time, speaking
for the peasant class. So he [Bhashani] refused to participate in the elections, and
even though he was one of the founders of the Awami League, broke off. After he
broke off, Sheikh Mujib created a new party.

As a result, the left and the intellectuals were then kind of a threat, right? As soon he
got into power, he also began to consolidate that power. Targeting left politically
oriented artists and poets seemed to be an effective tactic. Crazy enough, on Wiki,
theres a write up on these events. My father was a poet, so he wrote a poem about
seeing his friend killed. That was the impetus for him to leave Bangladesh. My father
returned back [to Bangladesh] in 1980 and it was during Ershads time. Ershad was
a dictator, but even though it was a dictatorship, it was politically safe to return. My
father always wanted be involved and connected to Bangladesh. He returned for
that reason while we stayed in the United States.



What kind of revolutionary was your mom? What kind of leftist was she?
I think she followed him. When I was nine I came to the States, but the reason why I
know any Bangla is because I went to Bangladesh and we lived in Bangladesh for
three years in 1980, at about seven or eight years old. I went to a Bengali school in
Bangladesh. My mom really believed and supported in him, they met when he was a
writer and a poet. I think that she supported his politics and his activism, but for lots

of complicated reasons, their marriage didnt work. They were young. They were in
their twenties when they had my brother and I. I think that they didnt have the
tools to be good to each other. I dont think my father really had the tools to be a
good husband, to be honest. So that created tension. I think that my mother is
revolutionary in a sense that she, even though my parents separated, always made
sure that I always had a link to my father. She would say Amader shomporko
rokther na. Thomader shomporko rokther. She says that your tie and your right to
your father is stronger because your blood. So never give that up. And I think that
took an enormous amount of courage because you know, marital breakups are
never good. So for her to really step up, facilitate and allow for a relationship really
speaks volumes. It is probably is the reason why I do have a relationship with my
father, much later. Because my father is involved in activist work in Bangladesh, is
very political, still is left-oriented, theres some kindredness. One of the things early
on I had to learn is that no one is perfect. Im able to say, I love my father. I respect
enormously what he does. Hes extremely well-known as a foremost thinker and
intellectual in Bangladesh. I think hell also admit that in terms of his personal
father/husband role, he was a complete fail. People often remark because they see
us together and they dont know that history. Im very open about it even if it makes
people uncomfortable, because I feel like its really important for people to know
that people have different ways in negotiating their relationships with people in
their lives. What I was saying earlier is that people are flawed. I think human beings
have ups and down. Theres a beautiful Lalon song, Allah bhashai dubai the pare,
dubai bhashai the pare. Meaning that, we, as human beings, have the capacity to

float from drowning and drown from floating and its really our choice. We have
choice. Human beings sometimes are drowning, theyre not doing anything.
Sometimes theyre just floating. I think that once we begin to understand that side of
them, we can have compassion. We can hold them accountable, but we can also have
compassion. I think that really shapes, not just the politics of the activists and the
nitty-gritty, but also the worldview. Thats why Im friends with, I work and
collaborate with anyone. Even though, I will disagree with you. I can tell you, I dont
agree with this this this thing, but I will still love, appreciate and be here with you,
because those are two different political acts. One is, just a principal in thinking. To
be present with someone, is another political act, which is about community
building and relationship building. This is tough, but we have to work through this
together. I dont put that forth as the solution, because I think sometimes when
people experience trauma, you cannot reconcile. I think its not far, when in society
sometimes people will say Oh, just mitao, mitao. Solve it. Get together. I think its
really based on the individual to decide how they want to engage in the
relationship. I dont really talk about my childhood because it was a very traumatic
childhood. It was a lot of ups and downs, back-and-forths. Not understanding as a
child, why would my father want to be there, not with me. All the complexities
that go into this. The fact that he was doing this for Bangladesh made me suppress
my desire, as a child, to want to parent. I think that this sort of community desire,
the politics subsuming our individuals desires, our individual wants and needs is
very much part of my upbringing. Then on top of that, throw in gender.

Now, at 43, looking back, I dont think I would be who I am, if not for those
experiences. I think that it gives me insight, but at the moment, as a young person, it
had taken me a long time to figure out if I wanted a relationship with my father. As a
feminist, what does it mean for me to have a relationship with my father who
abdicated his relationship to my mother. And all those things really puts out all the
stuff.

I think your story speaks to like the multitudes of our existence, as
Bangladeshi diasporic woman. And I think when you name how you carry the
complexities of being a feminist, but loving and respecting leftist tradition in
our legacies, you speak a lot to what it means to be a revolutionary
Bangladeshi who loves the revolution that happened in our homeland. 1971
was so integral to the cultural formation, but also you are critical of the impact
its had the women in that country. So tell me about language. You were
speaking earlier about how your mom was really about Bangla in the house.
What was that like and how do you see that love for Bangla as a parent now?
What are the ways you use language as that bridging tool to understand that
complex history?

I completely agree with you. I think that women post 1971, especially women like
Birangonas whove been raped, other women who actually took up arms in the
liberation movement often times are not acknowledged. They are consequences to
that, their sacrifices to any social justice movement. I think women bear the brunt

of it, continually. My story is one piece of a larger narrative of many women who
experience the sacrifices of the revolution. I feel like younger Bangladeshi feminists,
younger women, emerging activists are really sophisticated about understanding
gender, the community and questioning, which we didnt have the tools for growing
up. I think the only reason I learned Bangla, is because I went back to Bangladesh, in
1980, when I was nine. My father is a poet in Bangla. Hes a little totalitarian, and
would not let me go to an English school. Even though from kindergarten to the
third grade, I went to P.S. 106 in the Bronx and didnt really know any Bangla and
my mom would complain Thumi Bangla the kotha bolo na. Bangla the othor daw
na. (You dont speak Bangla. You dont reply in Bangla.) Id get a lot of criticism. At
the time there was no Bangla school [in New York]. For three years, my mom
tutored me in Bangla. I think that the combination of my dad being a little of a
dictatorial like Oshombob! Amar mei Bangla porthey parbe na?. (Absurd! My child
cant read Bangla?) His poetry is on a level I cant even read anyways, but I can read
basic Bangla and my mom was instrumental in making sure I can do that. As a
Bangladeshi married to a non-Bangladeshi, who speaks Spanish, its a huge
challenge and I remember writing my husband this poem called What language will
our children speak. Will it be Bangla? Will it be Spanish? And I kind of went off. Im
not a poet, but I was inspired. I tried to introduce them to Bangla, but Id be lying if I
said my kids are anywhere near fluent at all.

Yes, and you take your children to Bangladesh.

I take them to Bangladesh every year and a half. My husband and I, made the
commitment that, In our budget whatever vacation we will take, well to
Bangladesh. The folks around, for all intensive purposes, even though in New York I
grew up in the working class community, in Bangladesh, my parents are educated.
Dhaka University, lower middle class. We would not be considered from a working
class family in Bangladesh. People around can speak a little bit of English. My kids
are talking to their grandfather who is fluent in both English and Bangla.
Unfortunately, what I do is I go to the gram and they have to interact with kids who
are like, what? So well see. What I decided as a parent: fluency would be great, but
I want them to be comfortable in claiming this side of their heritage. That was more
important to me. By going to Bangladesh and for the community see them, and take
them in because they are bi-cultural, I think was more important for me to
prioritize. They felt like they could go back and maybe when theyre older, in college,
you know, they have a moment.

Bangla is a really hard language to learn, you know. I think it takes a lot of
years of even being confident to speak it and especially with the classism that
happens internally.

Yes, because this past year, I spent in Bangladesh, I was interviewing doing
everything in Bangla. And then one person said to me Shadharontho, deklam tho
bayrer thike jara ashe, Bangla bolthe parey. Ami deklam apne atho bhalo Bangla
bolthe parenna. (Usually, those who come from the outside can speak Bangla well.

Ive noticed that you dont know how to speak Bangla well.) And I was like * laughs
shockingly.*

Yes! Like, do you know how many years it took me to get here?
I know. It was interesting and truthful. In Bangladesh, people are taught English and
Bengali. So a lot of Bangladeshi scholars or actors are fluent in both Bangla and
English. Maybe when they speak they have an accent, but they have strong
command of both. Its actually us the diaspora. I always used to feel like were
neither here nor there. Even when I was away during my middle school period, I had
to always grapple with English a little bit. Like grammar, things that I missed,
because I was not here. Sometimes I feel like, Oh Im not strong in anything in
either English or Bengali, but now, Ive come to terms with that because its not a
shame for me, thats a product of my experiences. And if language is to
communicate, Do you understand me? Yes. Then okay were done.

Yea, and recently you spoke at NTV and that was an experience you wrote
about on your Facebook. And I would like to hear, how was that? I know that
shuddho Bangla is an experience of its own and what it means to be in an
intellectual community and speaking Bangla, is also a very different
experience. So how do you see the way in which those divides show up, and as
somebody who is an advocate, for language equality, but also an advocate
against classism, like how do you navigate that?

I was invited to be interviewed on my work on labor rights. They said it was in

Bangla, I was first like, No I dont want to do it cause I had never done it before. I
speak all the time, and have spoken [Bangla] even in smaller settings. Television
interviews, I have to sound smart, so I was very nervous and I think that theres all
that you mention about shuddho Bangla and ashuddho Bangla. There is a lot of
classism to that but on the other hand, its like youre educated so this classism
doesnt work for you in that way. So in the interview, I just did it. I think I got a lot of
support for it. People just say however you want to say, and as long as people can
under, its fine.
The experience actually taught me one thing, in a way its good, that me, as someone
who is read as this intellectual or expert on something, may not be as articulate in
Bangla. Not because Im purposely doing it, but because this is my command of the
language. Because then, a worker or someone else, who also may not have the same
command over Bangla in the same way, can still be seen as an expert or can be
brought in to talk about the certain issues. Quite frankly, most of the workers I
interview are, have a strong command over Bangla.
One of the beautiful things about interviewing garment workers is it is rich, rich in
metaphor. Because, the way in which they have to communicate to each other, is
through these metaphors to communicate these really complex concepts. I
remember having to translate an interview, the journalist was like, whats she
saying? and shes talking about unions and employers.
Malik ra macher motho pisla, oderke chai na dile, dhora jai na. Union hocche chai.

So when you translate, its like, okay an employers like a fish. You gotta put ash on
them, otherwise theyll slip through your hands. It doesnt quite flow in English, but
in Bangla, fish, the metaphor of catching the fish, the sliminess of it, right, is to note
the trickery of the employer. If I just said, you have the right to the union, under the
law, union protects you! Not that they couldnt grasp, but they couldnt grasp in a
specific way that really relates to their day-to-day experience. So language and class
and all of that is so important. and I think that a lot of times, people misunderstand
the richness and the depth of what someone is saying, because theyre all worked up
about the form of it. So for me, I think that was a good experience. The other thing is
around class. Even though I may have been a migrant here, and grew up in a
working class community, I had greater access, as compared to someone who didnt
have higher and formal education in Bangladesh. So its really important not to
conflate class. Well sometimes people say, well Apner kotho koshto korey shofol
hoilen. Youre so successful, right. Right. But, okay yes, my mom was a single
mother. She was an immigrant. She had a union job, but she had a job that paid her,
but because she had at least a Bachelors degree from Dhaka University.

In the 1970s, when having a bachelors from a developing country was the wanted
skill labor. Immigration shifted now, right. Cause some people will say, well I now
have a degree, but I cant get a job except for retail service. So I think that its really
important to kind of keep in mind the person whos coming from Bangladesh on a
diversity lottery, or who may not have formal or higher education from their home
country, coming into the United States and given the racial segmentation of America,

how are they able to have any class mobility. I share that because, as someone whos
in that grey zone, its really important for us to check our classism and internalized
classism, right. And its the reason why recently my mother and I got into a
disagreement about it. She said, You say you are working class, but no. I came here
because I had an education. I was able to get a union job and you went to college.
Youre not working class.

I said, economically I might be doing better. I mean, but for being in public interest.
But consciousness wise, where do I align myself with? Class is not an identity, fixed.
I dont have a lot of money. And therefore, Im poor. Like, so working class identity
and working class consciousness to me, is different. This example about language,
its good because it keeps us who aspire for middle class life, in check. Because it
sort of says, like no! Actually you cant speak shuddho Bangla, so youre like them.
And its good for me to have that experience.

Because thats also where the masses are and class is about the work you do.
So for people who are doing tenant organizing, theyre not going to be
speaking newspaper Bangla, you know. Theyre going to be speaking
conversational dialects that are indigenous to them.

And in writing also, my first case involved a domestic worker. And I knew that she
would not speak English but as a young lawyer I was like she would know Bangla. So
orally of course, but then when she came, I had to have her sign the complaint. And

she was like Apu, ami tho shohi korthe pari na. (Oh sister, I cant write.) And then, I
was like, right. So in all the language access conversations, were translating
documents.

For who?

For who? Because sometimes, the level at which its being translated, isnt accessible
to the population who needs a translation - thats one. And then the other is, even if
they can read, because actually theres a relatively decent level of literacy, but even
if they can read that doesnt mean that they can then also write.

It doesnt mean that the can then go advocate for themselves at a social service
office.

Well they might see like a form. So, for example, you translated a form and youre all
happy. Heres my public assistance form, and it;s in Bangla. Its in Bangla. You fill
this out. But if the person cannot write in Bangla, then what do you do? This is
actually not uncommon. Ive see this in my representation of Mexican immigrants,
particularly from indigenous communities in Mexico because they dont speak
Spanish. They speak their indigenous languages. So, if youre translating - youre
like, oh, youre from Mexico? Here. Im going to talk to you in Spanish. Actually, no.
They dont speak that. Still the language access part and the small piece that I play

around the labor issue, is 100% needed, but I think we need to have more of an
understanding about language.

So can you tell us more about the work you do and what its been like to serve
and work with the Bangladeshi New York community and in Bangladesh. Since
its such a fast growing, multi-layered community with so many needs from
housing to sexual violence.

I identify myself as a labor rights advocate. So for all communities, I think thats kind
of in form. Because I am familiar with the Bangladeshi community and Ive seen the
Bangladeshi community struggle with labor rights, working with Bangladeshi
community there are challenges, but I love it. Even if the community disagrees with
you or doesnt like outright, you know, Ive always felt like a certain amount of love.
They still know that your intentions are to help and that has always been positive in
terms of the work, but I will say, having a law degree does shield me from a lot of
critique that say, an organizer without a degree probably would experience. Because
Bangladeshi community doesnt know what to do with me. Oh, shes a lawyer and,
but shes helping. Okay, we dont like that shes suing Bangladeshi employers for
wages for Bangladeshis. And Ive brought a lot of cases against Bangladeshi
employers, especially construction or those who dont pay their wages to their
workers. Cause at the end of the day, youre not following the law. If you want to
follow the law, I can help you. But if you consistently dont want to follow the law, it

shouldnt go on the backbone of the poorest of our communities. So in those

moments, Ive been criticized, and I go in and out of favor, depending.

If its the employer or the employees?

Yeah, I mean like, for example, when I represent Muslim drivers, surveillance and
targeted by FBI - great! Im protecting against the state. When Im suing the
Bangladeshi diplomat for abusing his domestic worker, then Im a traitor to
Bangladesh. So I think that in those moments, the most important thing is to remain
engaged and to remain connected to groups. Because I think its very easy to say,
Look Im helping and forget you people, right. You cant criticize me and sort of
disassociate. So, Ive tried to remain connected as much as I can. Its changed over
time now with the family and other responsibilities. Im not able to go to as many
meetings, and have a physical presence. I get calls for everything and I actually dont
mind it. On any given day you know someone would say Chaumtoli, such and such
has a problem, can you talk to her? And it doesnt matter where Im at domestic
violence, family law issue, housing issue. Because Im advocate. Im a lawyer. I can
talk to them about things. I cant represent them in all those cases. So, I try to be
very clear about what I can do and what cant do. And sometimes that, you know,
that gets critiques. Some people are like Oh, oh ki kore? Kichu kore na. Khali kotha
bole. (Oh, what does she do? She doesnt do anything. She just talks.) But, you know
I try to impress upon the value of being a resource person.

And how do you see yourself in those tough conversations. Like, what are the
ways you cope with that trauma? Essentially these people are putting their
trauma on you because were all traumatized and were just learning that
Chaumtolis a lawyer, and maybe she can do something, but were all helpless
in the hands of the system. So how do you engage with that difficult
conversation, where these people feel betrayed by so many people; and then
we feel alone in our own communities; and then we feel like our own
communities are not rallying for us or supporting us. So what are the methods
you use? I think this process of talking it out is also giving strategies for young
people that are in between these margins of yes, I want to be involved in social
change, but if its a homophobic violent space, I dont know if I can do work
there.
Yes, I think each person is gonna have to decide where theyre at. For the most part,
the folks that I speak to clients or advocates have appreciated whatever Ive
done. I think one of the things about Bangladeshi people, we are shadharon
manush, or matir manush, literally people of the soil. Sometimes you feel
undeserving. After 9/11, my friends father was detained and I went because he
needed access to heart medication. I had an attorney pass and I could say, he needs
medication. He got out, you know. He had a pending case, because in that moment
he was undocumented. They had detained him. So he was released. I didnt
represent him in his actual immigration case. Auntie called because I grew up in
Parkchester where most of the people were also undocumented. People know Im a
lawyer. Mama ke detain korsey, kichu korthe parbe ki na? (They detained uncle,

can you do anything?) And I just literally went to Federal Plaza and I was like I dont
care, Ill just do whatever. So, to this day, whenever the auntie sees me, shes like
Thomake chara ami ki kortham? Oi shomoi. (What would I do without you? That
time.) And to me, and as a lawyer, in the scheme of things, its like, all I did was show
up and just make a strong argument and talk loudly to them to say this is a person
who requires medical attention, and needs medication. Those folks are extremely
appreciative.

The folks who are critical are when I take a political stance. If I represent a domestic
worker against a Bangladeshi employer, if I speak against the current Bangladeshi
government. If I say anything that might embarrass Bangladesh. If I was critical of
Bangladesh. On the flip side, also Ive gotten critique from progressive secularists.
Im very vocal around anti-Muslim, Islamophobia here, and also in Bangladesh. In
Bangladesh, if you have a tupi, dari (kufi and beard), they are quick to say Mullah,
oshikkhitho. (Islamic cleric, uneducated) Even in Bangladesh, we demonize
Muslims. The most anti-Muslim self-loathing is among Muslims, unfortunately.
Theres this long history, structural and all that. Oh, and then sometimes Im an
Islamist apologist.

Yes, and living between these contradictions, and also acknowledging the
violence against bloggers in a state where there is rampant vigilante violence
requires careful narration. What it means to hold these contradictions in a
way thats acknowledging: yes we have a history of deep patriarchy from the

same leftists that are liberating our country but also, theres are deep divides
in our nation.

Yes, absolutely and you asked about strategies. I think one of the things that Ive
tried to do is to just be present. If I disagree with you, and youre in front of me, I
cant make you out to be this horrible person. Im not evil. I disagree with her
strongly, but Chaumtolis here, she cares, shes present. I try to connect with people
on some level. I think thats from my own life experience of seeing that families can
have these ruptures. I loved how you said that you hold these contradictions. Were
walking with these contradictions, and were living them, and each moment were
negotiating and navigating theat. Some days, Im like Baddao, ami parbo na. (Leave
it, I cant.) And then some days, I just say okay, Im gonna engage. If anyone is going
to glean any strategies from it, its ultimately oneself protect yourself. Doctors
have this. The queer movement, I think is very good at this, about harm reduction.,
in any traumatic relationship, where there are competing oppressions. When I sued
the diplomats from Bangladesh, they said, Oh other diplomats, Europeans do the
same things. Why you targeting us? This sends a bad name to Muslim diplomats
versus non-Muslims. Theres some truth to that, but I did sue a Baharaini diplomat
and I managed the message so that it was never about being Muslim. Even then, the
media kept asking Do you think this happens Ms. Huq, mostly in Muslim
communities? And Im like, No. This is about power as a diplomat and it happens
across the board. There are ways you can counter that kind of message, but
because we hold all these to be true, I think you have to ask yourself am I able to

engage in this moment? Can I engage in a way thats not going to harm emotionally
and re-traumatize me? If I cant, I would say to the person dont, because were in
it for the long hall. When I die, is when Im going to be ending what Im doing in
terms of social justice work. I need to sustain myself for the long haul, but if I have
the energy and the wherewithal to engage, then Ill engage. Otherwise, were not
gonna really change minds. I think its really gonna be an individual choice and
moment, I cant speak to each persons individual experiences. I think that reducing
harm to yourself, to the community as a neutralizing principle is probably the
place to start. I credit the queer movement, as it has been very good with that
because of State violence. How do you deal with state violence? How do you deal
with internalized oppression oppression to each other? I dont know if you
remember when David Bowie passed away and there was all this issues about him
having sex with under aged girls, and they were like, well, you know in the queer
movement, older folks have sex with younger folks. Its part of the norm and there
was kind of a split. Some people were like, Yeah, thats the norm, and other friends
were like, No, thats thats not okay. I think having to grapple with that is kind of
where I draw from, principally.

47:57 Can you tell us a little about your work in Bangladesh and what kind of
research you did there?

In Bangladesh, I didnt represent anyone, it was purely research. I didnt do any legal
representation. So I basically got a research project to go after the Rana Plaza
collapse and investigate the labor conditions after the horrendous tragedy, where

over 1,100 workers died. My goal was to interview employers and all stakeholders,
so it was all different perspectives. My personal goal was to know how workers
were doing and how the labor movement was. It was actually one of the highlights
of my life thus far.

You know, I got to do a lot of interviews with members who are the unions, who
were organizing their factories. Women who were managing their families and
going to work. This work was arduous work and then on weekends, they go to their
union office and are organizing. You know, I would say its a triple burden that they
have because women labor leaders in Bangladesh have triple burden. They have the
burden of their gender and they still have to do work at home. Workers would talk
about going to work in the morning, coming home during lunch time, feeding their
in-laws or their husband, running back to work, and coming back. Then, if they have
children, taking care of the children, making food for their husbands, and they still
have to do the line share of household work. This is actually true for Western
women too. I wanna disavow any illusion that this is only about these garment
workers or those uneducated garment workers and husbands, and not educated
Western men.
It was a phenomenal experience because I was inspired by the risks that people
take. In Bangladesh, theres an industrial police, theres police forces intended to
literally squash protest in the labor sector. You have workers who are beaten with
rubber bullets and theyre still out in the streets. To imagine youre in the streets
and theres three hundred worker women sitting and theyre protesting for their

wages. To me, it was inspiring to see and capture their voices. This was not my
intention, but I was recording the interviews, putting together a documentary. Im
working with a filmmaker in Bangladesh, because Im not a filmmaker. That project
is ongoing but I have a short five minute video from that.

One of the things I realized, was that I dont want to mediate their voices. As much as
I can say, Im conscientious. Im aware of class issues. At the end of the day, Im a
lawyer, educated in the United States even though in the United States, I may not
have a level of power as a woman of color and growing up in a working class
community. In Bangladesh, I have access. People are going to meet with me because
I have a US degree. Im a researcher from America. I have a US passport. I wanted to
make sure that their voices were told and I lifted that up. Thats leveraging my
privilege towards that. I just loved it. I think it reaffirmed to me. At that time it was
like almost fifteen years in my lawyering, activism, I was feeling burnt out, and
asking myself: Why am I doing this? What is this all for? It gave me a boost because
I saw these women were no joke. On the flip side, there were people who were
afraid because its a tremendous amount to fight against the power. I took my entire
family my husband, my kids went. I put them in an English school so they got the
experience of just living in Bangladesh, living in Dhaka. Just professionally,
personally, I felt really whole. So much of my life are these fragmented identities. Im
a mother. Im an activist. Im Bangladeshi. Im in these spaces. There were all of
these siloed identities. I think that was the first time in awhile where I felt like they
sort of all came together.


54:05 I love talking to you because the Bangladeshi Historical Memory Project
is uplifting the history that you laid the groundwork for highlighting the ways
that the labor that we do the emotional labor, the talks, the chai, the sitting
down with other Bangladeshi women have actually led our community where
it is. The fact that Bangladeshi people throughout the the entire diaspora have
been organizing, whether it be garment workers or, the strikes all over the
country. I think what would be exciting is for mentors like you to always hold
space to engage with all these contradictions and occupying all these different
identities. Im really grateful for you and Im really excited to share these
lessons with other people. If you have anything else to say on your visions,
your hopes, or maybe what youre working on, we can follow up with that.

Thats so kind. Im a huge proponent, and this is probably definitely being
Bangladeshi, of one-on-one relationships. Theyre very intensive. Im not always
good at being the building block to social justice and revolutionary work. I think its
what you said about kind of the chai and being present. I think in terms of vision, I
can go on and on about what I like to see in terms of laws change, policy, how Id like
to see the world. I could talk for a long time, but I think that in terms of where I am
right now, Im really aligning myself to this notion of being present. Its like what
you said about being present for not just anybody because you cant over extend
that really. For folks who are really committed to building a social justice
community that want to really live on the principle of equality, helping each other,

and bringing us all along, Im present for that person if they need it. Im in that sort
of weird zone where I dont feel old, but obviously Im conscious of the fact that I am,
in comparison to you on this planet. Ive had the privilege of meeting a lot of really
fierce, young organizers, activists or creative people thinking about different things
and I think that its been really important. I think to just also step back because I felt
like when I was coming to my own as an activist, as a young person, I wasnt always
heard. A lot of it is patriarchy. Its like being one of the few women. A lot of people
would be like Oh, thats nice Chaumtoli. I think that I create a space, so that folks
can be heard and they can do their things. That may mean, I come forward when
needed. My interest is to see, atleast in the Bangladeshi community, more folks
coming forward.

What Im doing now, after I returned back from Bangladesh, is creating space,
creating opportunities, lending my skill towards opening up opportunities that
allow for social change to happen. To me, I feel like our task is to do things so that
the conditions exist for, for revolutionary to come. You need to have the right
temperature for the plant to grow. Im focusing on my website, Law at the Margins,
looking at law and social justice, creating a platform for folks to come together;
cultivating conversation around topics of social justice; intervene where I can.
Sometimes its like a Facebook rant and then sometimes its a much more involved
organizing. In terms of support, I think when theres projects or programs to come
through. I hosted a panel with the garment organizer that came in May. A number of
Bangladeshi young women came out and volunteered. Im not part of an

organization so theres little ways in which, on an individual level, that folks have
been really coming through and coming forward.

Thank you so much. I think because a lot of people arent a part of this
conversation, having access to the different histories that we come from
would be so important to fuel the desires to become more public advocates; to
become social workers. New York City needs more Bangladeshi teachers.
These are the foundations and principles that we have to engage with in order
to really bring our community to address the socio-economic and political
issues.