The Light We Give summary

In the days following 9/11, it was clear that many people saw anyone wearing a turban as a threat. For Simran, this led to the inevitable feeling that he had been attacked twice: once as an American in the terrorist attack itself, and then again as a Sikh, whose peaceful religious principles of inclusivity, charity, and interdependence didn’t matter in the face of their turban-wearing tradition. Surely, he could just cut his hair, ditch the turban, do what he could to fit in?

As he went on to college and graduate school, this idea certainly tempted him often. Not a terribly spiritual person, his connection to these traditions was largely through family, shared history, and tradition. Instead, he took these thoughts as an opportunity to start reflecting on why this was such a tempting idea. And what he discovered quickly started to change his mind.

On the morning of August 5, 2012, members of a gurdwara, or Sikh temple, in Oak Creek, Wisconsin, were gathering to prepare a communal meal for later in the day. Shortly after 10:00 a.m., with the building full of mostly women and children, an armed gunman entered the temple and began shooting. By the time it was over, five members of the community were dead – including the founder of the gurdwara – and several more were seriously wounded. A police officer had been shot more than 15 times, and the gunman, an avowed white supremacist, was also dead from a self-inflicted gunshot. One shooting victim was left paralyzed and passed away from complications in 2020.

While Simran had long become accustomed to encountering hate as a daily part of his life, he had never before witnessed violence against his community play out so openly across the news. Knowing the gunman targeted this community because they wore traditional beards and turbans was surreal . . . and completely expected. As anyone who has faced systemic injustice will likely understand, even the most shocking events can become routine for some.

In times of collective tragedy, finding comfort in the experience of helpers and survivors can inspire us to carry on. Doing the hard work of finding the humanity in those who have wronged us has the power to transform the meaning of the tragedy itself. It can serve as a humble reminder of our own humanity. Over time, finding the good in others changes how we see the world – with signs of hope popping up everywhere we look.

For Simran, this transformation was never more present, or challenging, than during the early days of the coronavirus pandemic. Living with his wife and daughters in New York City meant being at the epicenter of the outbreak early on. Days were full of uncertainty, with no vaccines or testing to combat the spread. This time, it was his doctor wife who was on the front lines of the struggle, bringing her stories home after long days working in the hospital.

If the journey thus far has been shaped by extreme circumstances – terrorist attacks and a global pandemic – the transformative insights are extremely simple. Choosing optimism and looking for hope helps sustain us. Confronting our bias and seeing the humanity in others can connect us. Serving others shows love, and showing love brings fulfillment. 

To put these simple kernels of wisdom into daily practice, it can help to imagine observing yourself like an outsider might. As Simran himself experienced, growing up as an outsider forces you to examine yourself and your life from another’s perspective. This, in and of itself, can bring insight.