Today we’d like to introduce you to Minita Gandhi.
Minita, can you briefly walk us through your story – how you started and how you got to where you are today.
Sure. I am a daughter of immigrants who was born in Mumbai, India. We came to the States when I was about a year or so old. We first moved to NY, then Indiana, but I was mostly raised in California’s Bay Area. I moved to Chicago in 2007 and have been there for over a decade. I recently started splitting my time between Chicago and Los Angeles. That’s my geography. 🙂
When I think of how I got to where I am today as an Artist/Activist, it seems like a series of fortunate and unfortunate events that all turned out to be perfection. And I say that only because I truly believe the universe works in mysterious ways. My parents read to me all the time as a child and really encouraged my imagination. I’m fairly positive this is why I would ask my Mom to leave the light on at bedtime and sneak a dozen books under my pillow to read… or just comb my fingers over the pages. I believe it’s also why the first physical memory I have is writing. I started writing poems before I can remember and my parents saved almost all my writing in boxes. I became a lover of stories in all mediums. And that is how the roots of myself as an artist were planted.
I believe my activism was born out of the faith I was born into. I was raised Jain, a religion that started in India and makes up about 1% of the world’s population. The main principle in Jainism is ahimsa or nonviolence. We practice this with all living things including plants. No matter how I have grown my spirituality the tenets of Jainism always live within me. I’ve been vegetarian my whole life and really do believe in respecting all living things. I believe the idea that any one person is more important than another is the source of so much of our suffering in the world.
When I was taking classes at a community college in California and thought my path was international relations and women’s studies, I took theater as an elective. Growing up, I had always been interested in theater but my parents steered me away as they thought it was more of a hobby rather than a career. But I auditioned for my first big show, Taming of the Shrew, got cast as Kate, and they saw my passion for the craft. It was an uphill battle but with the support of some great teachers and a lot of discipline I convinced my folks to let me go to an acting conservatory. I remember feeling that for the first time in my life I was equally passionate and disciplined about something. I could count the number of pieces of literature or movies that impacted my vantage point in the world. What if I could be a part of telling these kinds of stories? That was the first moment I thought I could use storytelling to create social change. That seed was planted but first I needed training.
I went off to PCPA acting conservatory and after learning a lot about myself and the craft found myself at Milwaukee Repertory Theater for an artistic internship. It was a pivotal time of life that included questioning whether I still wanted to be an artist if I could only eat beets out of a can for a dinner during a cold Milwaukee winter. I decided the answer was “yes.” During this time at PCPA and the Rep, I also remember going into auditions trying to be as “white,” as I could be for most roles. There were exactly zero roles written for women like me.
Then, I moved to Chicago to work at Silk Road Rising. It was an understudy gig that changed my life. They were doing a world premiere of Shishir Kurup’s Merchant on Venice, and modern adaptation of Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. The entire cast was South-Asian, Middle-Eastern, and Latin actors. I remember getting emotional the first time I saw everyone on stage. And that was the first time I remember experiencing that representation matters. I had never seen an Indian-American actor on stage before. It was so empowering. I wanted to be a part of this theater scene and tell stories like this. That’s when the seed begins to grow.
But first, it was a series of dealing with a very white and black Chicago theater scene. Everything was so segregated and the stories being told on stage were so hetero, white, and male. That was 10 years ago. Over those 10 years, I found myself doing bit parts with dialects, only getting called in for doctors, reporters, and receptionists for TV/Film. Every once in a while, I would get a role that pushed me but I was getting hungry for something more and wanting to feel more artistically fulfilled consistently. But I didn’t know how to create it yet. Or looking back maybe, I didn’t know I had the power to.
Then, in 2009, I went to India for one of my brother’s weddings and convinced my reluctant parents to let me go to a yoga/meditation retreat alone after the wedding festivities were done. It was a magical trip, filled with a visit to a prophet, running into an old romantic interest, and full of beauty. I felt like I was really searching deep for something in my spiritual life and wanted to be closer to my Indian roots. All of that was starting to happen when one night the doctor who ran the facility came to room drunk and sexually assaulted me. I got out of it before the worst could happen, but being alone in the middle of nowhere, naked in a room with a drunk man who was my yoga teacher and doctor, and the memory of blood dripping down my legs from a heavy period as I escaped to the bathroom ripped me away from any feeling of sanctity and safety for a long time after the assault ended. I got out of the center and filed a complaint against the doctor with the heads of the Hindu temple that owned the facility. My father had advised against it, as he was in fear for my life. But, I knew I had to file the complaint to get this man away from other women staying there alone. I had spent years teaching sexual abuse prevention workshops to kids in CPS but nothing prepared me for going through this experience. I was surrounded by people that didn’t believe me. But I fought hard and gained some justice. It’s the only time in my life I knew I would absolutely be willing to die for something.
That’s about the time the seed cracked. As a creative and an activist for women, I knew I needed to do something with all of this. I needed to write. But first, I needed to heal. And that healing took years. Learning how to trust again, having revelations about sex and sexuality and the way I was brought up speaking or not speaking about it, discovering the taboo of being a survivor, continuing to work on myself as an actor, seeing a therapist, falling in love and gaining intimacy, having my heart broken, healing,and then one day I was ready.
Teatro Vista and Second Story were hosting a storytelling night and the theme was “justice.” I was asked to be a part of it and wrote about the assault. And once that happened I felt like I could write everything. And then Malik Gillani and Jamil Khoury of Silk Road Rising took me out to dinner and asked me if I wanted to write. They gave me an incredible opportunity to create a play with a brilliant creative team helmed by Lookingglass Theater’s Artistic Director, Heidi Stillman. Muthaland, a 90-minute full-length play, written and performed by myself had four sold-out workshop performances, and then moved to the Ignition Festival at Victory Gardens Theater to Oregon Shakespeare Festival for the CAATA Festival, colleges and universities around the country, a world premiere at 16th St Theater, and will be having a west-coast premiere at PCPA Theaterfest in October. It’s wild when I think about it. The autobiographical story of an immigrant daughter with her father’s suitcase from his first trip to the US making it’s way around the world just blows my mind when I think of the male, heteronormative, white theater I grew up with.
It’s been incredible to tour the country with Muthaland, offering writing workshops, and teaching a Using your Art as Activism workshops to amazing humans. To connect with audience members who unfortunately too often have been through an assault and can heal through hearing my story and will often share their stories with me after the show, or when parents bring their children and tell me what they related to by witnessing my relationship with my folks in the play is the biggest gift I’ve ever received. These audiences remind me of the power of storytelling. And when young women and artists of color tell me they have never seen themselves up there before seeing my show, I am so moved that I can give that to them. And I while I love performing Muthaland I can’t wait for other Indian-American actors to perform it. Students request it for monologues and I’m so happy to give them the script.
When I look back to wanting to blend my love of stories with creating social justice, Muthaland has been the beginning of that opportunity for me. It also became the beginning of me realizing that just because I don’t see it in the world doesn’t mean it can’t exist. And once that seed cracked and started growing it has branched out in the most beautiful ways. Everything I’ve been involved with over the past few years has been about giving women and people of color a voice. I spent a year and a half developing a Women’s Leadership Program with Pinnacle Performance Company. When I’m not acting and writing I work with Pinnacle training executives all over the world in global communication skills. When I began training, women in workshops would often pull me aside and say things like, “Okay, so talk to me about being a woman and being assertive in the workplace. How do I really negotiate and get taken seriously?” So, I asked the co-founders of the company Gary Mills and Dave Lewis if we could create a women’s leadership program. They told me if I wanted to spearhead it that they would support it.
And out of piloting that program with the Statera Mentorship Program for Women in the Arts, I met a young woman from Chicago named Erika Haaland, who liked what I had to say about mentorship. We met for coffee and now we are the co-directors of a soon to be national mentorship program for women in the arts through the Statera Foundation. We have just finished 2 cycles of pairing up almost 200 women in the Chicagoland area. I know I didn’t have a female mentor and could have really used one. This program provides that for women and it’s really incredible how much power a program like this can bring to a community. It helps women function out of a state of abundance instead of scarcity. And I’m so excited for its future.
So, I’m not sure if that was brief. But, today I am an actor, playwright, activist for women’s rights, founder of a women’s leadership program for female executives, and the co-director of a mentorship program for women in the arts. And, I got here by trusting my gut, failing hard, and learning the power of how to get up and keep going. I got here by learning you don’t take anything with you so you should leave all that you can give behind.
Great, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
It’s always been a bumpy road which makes me enjoy when it’s smooth sailing for a moment. But, I’m learning more and more that the bumps in life are constant and the closer you are to your goal the more bumps there will be. So, the big thing is… how do you react to the bumps? Learning to not bitch about the bumps and deal with them is the hardest and most fruitful lesson I’ve learned. Be a doer, not a talker.
The hardest struggle is always when someone tells you “no.” So, then, I’ve had to ask myself, can I do it without them? Do I still want to do it? And there is always a way. You just have to persevere. I promise. Follow your gut. And that way will be even better than the one you had originally seen for yourself.
The other struggle that no one likes to talk about is money and work/life balance. You make a lot of sacrifices as an artist and making consistent good money is one of them. For me, the national commercial has been far and few between and I haven’t landed a large Hollywood contract yet. So, for me, a struggle was learning how to figure out the difference between what I need and what I want. And also, learning how to save when you get the really good checks. I’ve absolutely been able to do more travel and things of the like more lately in my life. But that was after years of eating beets out of a can, working six jobs at a time, and never sleeping. It wasn’t until I made a commitment to myself to make sure I’m living a life I’m proud of every day that work/life balance really came into play. Now, ALL the work I do whether it’s corporate or artistic is fulfilling. Everything aligns with my goals, to help give a voice to stories that need to be told and to help people find their voice. I’m very grateful for this is in my life.
If you are a young artist, having a roof over your head, food in your belly, and living a healthy lifestyle is important. You don’t have to starve yourself to be an artist. Just work hard on your craft and pay your dues that way. You can do it. Lean on your community when you need. The Chicago theater community is especially supportive.
The last struggle I can speak to is the voice in your head that says “you can’t,” or “you’re not worthy.” That voice will always try to get in there and just learning that no matter what your flaws are, you can and you are worthy, will get you so far.
Alright – so let’s talk business. Tell us about Minita Gandhi – what should we know?
As an actor, you’ve most recently seen me as a reporter in the new Bruce Willis movie, Deathwish or Dr. Prospere, an on Chicago Fire. I’ve played on a variety of TV/Film shot in Chicago, I finished a run of my Jeff-nominated solo-show Muthaland at 16th Street Theater but have worked at theaters all over the city and country including Lookingglass, Arena Stage, Berkeley Rep, and the Oregon Shakespeare Festival.
TV/Film- I’m most proud of playing Mussarat in Brown Girls. It was so female, so full of color and joy in cast and crew and I’ve never experienced a set like it. It comes through in the storytelling and really inspires the kind of work I want to do and am proud to be a part of. The writer and director got picked up by HBO and they are so deserving of it. The world needs their art.
In the theater, I’m most proud of Muthaland. It has allowed to push myself as an actor in playing both the comedy and drama of all 15 + plus roles and has expanded me as an artist to further myself as a writer. It’s the rawest and honest work I’ve ever done. And once you play in that arena there is no turning back. All I want to do is make more art every day. Art that creates change and can make the world better.
I’m really proud of the Statera Mentorship Program for women in the arts. It’s an all volunteer-run organization. We are constantly learning how to be better and grow stronger. It’s our mission to connect and lift up women. And seeing that happen is a gift.
I’m also really proud to grow the women’s leadership program with Pinnacle Performance Company. No matter the industry all women seem to be facing the same challenges and I’m excited to be part of the revolution to change that.
What sets me apart from others is instead of hiding who I am, I bring all of me to the table. You don’t just get to have me as a woman, or an immigrant, or an American, or an East-Indian, or an artist, or an entrepreneur, or a creator or a daughter, or a sister, or an activist. I bring all of me to the table to whatever I do. And I believe it is allowing all of these parts to have a voice in whatever I do that will amplify whatever I do in the world.
Is there a characteristic or quality that you feel is essential to success?
Perseverance. Faith. Integrity. Is there a word for all three of those together?! Because I believe it is that combination that has allowed me to achieve things in a way that feels true and authentic to myself. If I can wake up every morning and know that there is more work to be done because let’s face it, there always is… but feel proud of where I am and how I got here… to me, that is a success.
It’s the thing no one teaches you in school. You define what success is for yourself. And once you learn that the sky clears a bit. It’s still a journey but you’re defining your destination and how you want to get there. It becomes easier to know what to say “yes,” and “no” to. Your priorities get definition and then you can fly.
The other thing about perseverance as an artist is I have to set a goal for myself for every day. It can be written, work on a scene, think of new ways to grow the mentorship program, how to help more women gain the voice in their industry or how to do more outreach with Muthaland. But, I have to do at least one thing a day. It can be small but it has to be something. Because no one else is pushing you to get there.
This is why faith is key. There are times where people will come out of the woodwork to support you. I feel exceptionally blessed with the community I get to exist in. But there are isolated and lonely periods of time too. Sometimes, you may have a crazy idea/vision that no one wants to support but it’s so important that YOU follow it through fruition. So much of what we do is fail. And it takes A LOT of faith to keep failing, learn from it, and then find the next step. For me, having faith in myself and having a strong spiritual foundation of Jainism and Nichiren Buddhism makes all the difference. It takes a lot of faith to trust your gut. But if you do, the risk is in the reward.
And integrity is so important. People will offer you money, meetings, and throw names at you. And if I didn’t know what I wanted and more importantly how I wanted to feel about the process of getting there, things could have turned real ugly for my soul. But, I know the path to doing things with equity and integrity exists and I’m finding the people who want to clear that path with me. For example, when I perform Muthaland it’s necessary for me to have a strong creative team of women and people of color with me. I’ve had to advocate for that harder than I thought I would. But now, I know not to assume others will have the same artistic and social priorities as myself. So, I make that clear right out the gate.
Oh, also, when faced with any difficult decision I ask myself, “What will my 80-year old self-be proud that I did in this situation?” It never steers me wrong.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.minitagandhi.com
- Phone: 925-984-6734
- Email: minitagandhi@yahoo.com
- Instagram: minitagandhi
- Facebook: @Muthaland
- Twitter: @minitagandhi
- Other: https://www.imdb.com/name/nm4248068/
Image Credit:
Elizabeth Barnwell (B&W photo with Dad’s suitcase), Bjoern Kommerell, MUA Jeff Jones
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