Our Family

I was born with the name Perfection (Uttama). Perhaps because it was too heavy an expectation, I sought out the beauty in all things imperfect. At Northwestern, I found myself knee deep in a case to free a wrongfully convicted prisoner on death row. I learned Joey was his favorite character on Friends. While on the editorial team at Highlights magazine, I spent every free minute responding to letters from children asking for help with problems, from peer pressure to dying pets. A child once asked, “Can blind people see in their dreams?” And although I received a distinction in my psychology masters at Cambridge, I found the true test was working with learning-disabled children in a country that severely stigmatized mental illness. Even there, I discovered a shy little girl unable to speak or walk, who softly held my finger when I was fighting back tears.

I learned one day, while sitting on a beach and scribbling a business plan for South Asian Parent, that everything I ever wanted had always been within me. That my name, just like my fate, was written in moving sand. Of all the places I lived, I identified most with who I was, an Indian—a South Asian—a girl who recited prayers in the morning and rap lyrics at night. And no matter where I traveled, I found the stories of South Asian families the most intriguing, but also the most heartbreaking. Blessed with parents who lived truer to my name, I was adamant to make a change in families not quite as tranquil as mine. And so here I go again, inspired by this imperfection…

People call me: Uttu, Yods, Utts, Utti. Nobody calls me my name.

Inspiration: Always the little things: extra chocolate in my croissant, letter in the postbox, a smiling baby, kindness from a stranger, hugs.

If I were a toy, I’d be: Polly Pocket

Dream: A time in which children will be born and recognized as their own souls—not a canvas on which to paint their parents’ dreams.

Role model: My father—who never uttered a word unless he could put it into practice. My mother, for limitless strength.

Favorite childhood memory: How could there ever be one? Hiding under a tree to watch leopards hunt, camping in pouring rain, snuggling close to mummy on a night train across India, lighting a thousand candles with my sister for Diwali, swimming in a pool surrounded by peacocks, pretending to sleep when daddy kissed me good night. My childhood is the favorite memory of my life.

Achievements: In my heart: revealing my true self to my family, having the courage to always follow my dreams, and never being afraid of falling in love. On paper: succeeding at Cambridge whilst hating it, surviving a year in small-town America as the only ‘colored’ person, and South Asian Parent, South Asian Parent, South Asian Parent!