Made by an Immigrant
Newspapers have been a constant presence throughout my life. As a child, I often saw my family wrap fragile glassware in newsprint before moving house. I would also watch as my father polished the glass of the display cases in his stationery shop with crumpled sheets – proof that paper could clean just as well as it could inform. I recall seeing a goat chew on discarded articles outside a mosque, as if the paper were some decadent treat. And at the market, I frequently bought herbs wrapped in newspaper headlines — George Bush, Saddam, Rafsanjani — their faces discarded once the greens were washed. Later, as a student living on my own, I would spread newspapers across my dining table: a disposable tablecloth for meals that didn’t need to be washed, just discarded and replaced.
These fleeting encounters revealed the duality of newsprint: it could preserve and protect, but also distort and disappear. I learned that value is diminished when something is stripped of its true purpose. Once a voice for equality and freedom, the news has shifted direction. It has become a tool for everything other than free speech.
As an Iranian minority and immigrant living in the US, my work reflects the social environment of my homeland and the experiences of my childhood, addressing the fragile narrative of freedom that has been evident throughout much of my life.
I brought this newspaper ritual with me to the USA, and now wrap small statues in newspaper as part of my installation — remembering my father, who would wrap Statue of Liberty figurines before giving them to customers.
In “Made by an Immigrant”, the bound hands stand as a metaphor for the present. Stripping identity is the first step toward suffocating freedom. Today, the press — once a vessel of truth — often collapses under the weight of censorship, sensationalism, and noise. Information is repurposed into distraction. Coverage dissolves into spectacle: personal scandals, populist rhetoric, fragmented protests. Like paper bundled around fragrant herbs, once unwrapped, the news is discarded, its purpose consumed and forgotten. And even the system has forgotten that I wasn’t born an immigrant — I was made into one. Geopolitics pushes you where it wants, and when you’re no longer useful, it pushes you out.
This work, in particular, highlights the erosion of freedom in our society. A raised hand traditionally symbolizes peace, freedom and liberty but when the fingers are bound, the message is lost. The tied fingers, restrained by zip ties, is transformed. What once symbolized freedom becomes sexualized and commodified. This distortion mirrors the influence of algorithms — both real and digital — that shape our beliefs, until we transform ourselves into what we’ve been told. Media has become a tool of power, and we often forget how vital the use of language is for building a free society.
The piece features statued hands, showing that even if a savior were to break the plastic tie, the fingers would not naturally return to their free form. The hand would remain frozen, symbolizing prolonged suppression and the lasting effects of oppression.
By wrapping icons of liberty in newspaper and zip-tying the fingers, I ask:
What remains of freedom when the very tools meant to protect it become the instruments of its suffocation?
Foad SM
Support the Art – Take Part of It Home
This installation consists of 65 unique pieces. It will exist as a whole only during September. Afterward, the work disperses — each donor will take home a piece, becoming part of the artwork’s journey.
Minimum donation: $25
Your gift supports bringing this project to a larger stage. As a token of gratitude, you’ll receive one piece from the installation at the close of the show.
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