Lost and Found: Searching for Home at the Wing Luke Museum dives deeply into the diasporic experiences of Asian American Native Hawaiian Pacific Islander (AANHPI) communities, exploring the intricate connections between cultural heritage, identity, and belonging. Emerging from a proposal by Islanda Naughton — a Cambodian American creative, mother, and former Wing Luke Museum educator — the exhibit was shaped by the Wing’s Community Advisory Committee (CAC) process. At a time when the museum is facing both leadership transitions and sensitive community discussions, Lost and Found opens a space for generative healing and understanding.
According to Wing Luke Museum spokesperson, Steve McLean, Lost and Found represents “a conversation that reaches into the heart of what it means to belong and honors the experiences of our communities.” This sentiment echoes the museum’s commitment to fostering inclusivity and accessibility, particularly during times of internal and external change. Joining Islanda in this dialogue are Pakistani American artists Maliha Masood, a writer and activist whose global travels inform her reflections on identity, and Safwat Saleem, a multimedia artist and father known for his satirical explorations of belonging.
Together, they invite viewers to embark on a journey across histories and identities, weaving stories that honor the beauty and complexity of finding — and redefining — home.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
IE: What did it feel like to share your stories through this exhibit? How does this work reflect your personal journey of reclaiming or finding a sense of home?
Islanda Naughton: I have been to Cambodia more than once now, but becoming a mother has brought up experiences and redefined my identity, and shaped my two new human’s identities. How can I shape [my children’s] identity and culture? I don’t speak the languages spoken in Cambodia, my husband is Irish American, but speaks Mandarin and Spanish. I realize I am not the only one dealing with this.
How do you bring in culture and hold on to [your] traditions? I was born in a refugee camp in Rhode Island where my name, “Islanda” was forged. My neighbors and I were talking about their names, and the Western Anglicized versions of our naming. I’d ask that anyone consider not to forget how beautiful your name is, and your heritage, and your background. Your identity, how everyone goes through this.
IE: What does the concept of ‘home’ mean to you, and how does your story in this exhibit reflect that?
Maliha Masood: I no longer see home as a fixed entity. I think of home as things that ground you. This could be [my] favorite foods or in my case, favorite clothing. My story is about my dupatta. It’s a shawl-like garment that is worn among South Asian women. I don’t wear it in my everyday wardrobe but only for special occasions. As soon as I feel the drape of the fabric and tie it around my waist or neck, I instantly feel a sense of homecoming.
Safwat Saleem: For the longest time, I wanted home to a physical geographical space. I’m a lifelong immigrant who grew up in the United Arab Emirates, and my family is from Pakistan. I moved to the U.S. when I was a teen, and “home” has always been an elusive concept that was never able to be defined by myself. It has been clearer that it is not a geographical space, but who I want to be with. I am a parent and a partner, and it’s the little world that the four of us have made. That feels like home.
IE: Can you share your journey of creating this piece and how it connects to your own experiences with finding or longing for home?
SS: I have two pieces [of art], one is 22 Words (2023), which is a film that is a conversation with my daughter. The other is a drawing titled The Anxieties of an Immigrant Father (2022 and 2024). The show collected 30 of the 52 pieces. One of the pieces is based on being an immigrant parent. A father trying to teach his daughter these words… the conversation that we are having. It shows the intention, and my desires for my daughter as well as her desire of what she wants, although she is 7. She is not an immigrant, what does home mean for them.
IE: How has creating and or participating in this exhibit helped you process complex emotions related to displacement or belonging?
IN: One of the struggles is you feel guilty, you don’t hang out with the language. I tried to pick up and take language classes but can’t keep it up. It’s the shared experience, knowing that we are all here to share everyone’s stories. Being a part of the art selection process and to see themselves express themselves in their art forms has been healing. It was a realization that we are in charge of our own destiny. Home doesn’t have to be a physical place. It is just finding connection, virtually and your own community within your own family. I love that there is now Cambodia Town and Chinatown in the International District. There is always a place to find your own people.
MM: It has helped me realize that belonging does not have to be dictated by external forces. You can find your way to belong internally and that is what matters most.
IE: What role do you see art and or history playing in bridging cultural divides and fostering understanding within the museum and beyond?
SS: I think that a lot of the art that speaks to me does an understated job of addressing remembrance. Not forgetting, preserving our histories. A lot of work and resistance against forgetting. It is essential in creating understanding and bridge-building. Can we acknowledge these events and feel seen as a whole person as opposed to one-dimensional. Not forgetting and being seen in our histories.
IE: What has been the most powerful part of sharing your story, especially for those who may face barriers to returning to their cultural homeland?
MM: It’s important for people to know there are many ways of being at home even if you face barriers as I do since I cannot ever go back to India to see my cousins. I was born in Pakistan and I cannot get a visa because of the political situation. So I think my dupatta story is powerful because it’s a way of overcoming bureaucratic nonsense and transcending boundaries.
SS: In real life, I am a quiet individual, an introvert. Art is often a way for me to process what’s going on in my head. Processing longterm complex ideas of home and parenthood to put my story out there. For folks to respond to it in the way that moves me, defines or reminds them of their own stories and makes them feel less alone. If it makes them feel less alone, at the end of the day, if it makes you feel less alone, it surpasses any goal I have for that work of art.
IE: Can you share your stories of your experiences as part of the Wing Luke Museum CAC process?
IN: I love the Wing. It’s the exhibits, the staff, having a CAC that stays connected even if they’ve moved on, everyone continues to participate in programming, philanthropy, the CID, and our communities.
Steve McLean: The Wing builds its own family, and we all stay connected whenever we can.
MM: I’ve been on several CACs at at the Wing Luke Museum and participated in five different exhibits as a community member. CACs are driven by the community so it’s a bottom up rather than a top down approach. We discuss the storyline and messages we want to convey about each exhibit and every one of them are so different. I like participating as a group and hearing everyone’s input.
My last CAC for the Elders exhibit which is currently running was very personal because my parents were featured in it and I also wrote the text for it. CAC gives me the opportunity to be a team player and tell stories that couldn’t be told in any other way. The Wing is a very unique museum in having this community oriented approach to curating exhibits.
IE: In light of the challenges and changes within the museum’s leadership, how can exhibits like Lost and Found help the community heal and rebuild trust?
IN: They’ve never swayed from their mission, It’s the unwavering commitment of the staff, and their continuous involvement in the community. I’ve seen folks [in this CAC] like Christina that havent been staff for 20 years, but still want to stay involved. They’re still a part of wanting to share their stories.
SM: There have been challenges in the neighborhood that are constant. There are continued disagreements within the community, and humans are doing the best that they can, that is a deeper part of understanding. The CAC process respects the stories. A love for the community, a love for humans, a love for and outside of the AANHPI communities, knowing which way to express yourselves. Identify who you are. DIfferences aside, we have more commonalities. Even if it’s internally and externally, if you start to work together you are still human. This exhibit signifies that.
IE: How can art, storytelling, and community projects like this exhibit help restore relationships and foster a deeper understanding within and beyond museums?
MM: It can bring us closer together as a community through shared values. Everyone is searching for home and all of us have our own way of relating to home no matter what our skin color, race, or ethnicity so we’re kind of a joint quest to find this mythical home and there is no conflict because everyone is on their own journey and path and we just need to respect that.
SS: I was reading the stories from afar since I’m based in Arizona. I respect how the museum has addressed the issues. I feel that the Palestinian pain needs to be acknowledged, and am not sure if that pain should be in this exhibit, but should be amplified.
IE: What message do you hope visitors take away from this exhibit, particularly in terms of healing and understanding the complexities of home, identity, and belonging?
IN: Walking away knowing it’s a journey. Nothing is immediate. Be patient, it’s a journey, there is always a community out there.
MM: You are always negotiating your identity and sense of belonging. It’s important to keep it fluid and not fixed. It’s also important to hold your ground and not let it be shaken up by power mongers and their agendas. Homeland is so unique and we all have our own unique perspective. No matter where we are coming from, we are more empowered and grounded in our understanding of our concepts of home. I want audiences to have a peace of mind despite our barriers. I want everyone to differentiate between external forces, politics, and decisions in government outside of our control. There are internal conversations and a sense of ownership and peace within our concept of home.
SS: So you feel that the museum is representative of the internal community conversations and personal and civic community internal dialogues and agency, which helps with self-determinism and a sense of thriving.
IE: What gives you hope for the future of our community?
SS: My children give me hope. I’m generally a pretty pessimistic individual. Especially in this political climate, it’s hard to find moments of hope. I make artwork with my daughter, who is a very important part of my practice, and provides said hope to me. I don’t know what gives the community hope at large, but my hope is that the artists, storytellers, and guests feel seen and not alone in feeling what they feel. I think of art as light in the dark. The journey that you take is letting the light guide you on the way. If they are taking the journey home, there is a little light along the way.
As Lost and Found: Searching for Home opens for a two-year installation, visitors will engage with stories including those from Islanda Naughton, Maliha Masood, and Safwat Saleem through art installations, hands-on activities and multimedia storytelling. This dynamic and interactive experience offers a unique chance to explore what ‘home’ truly means, and, in doing so, to contribute their own reflections. As visitors explore, they will find not just an exhibit, but a space for shared reflection, healing, and inspiration — a reminder that the neverending journey to understanding begins with listening.
