Revolutions are born from resistance to tyranny, social injustices, and prejudice. The world’s wars and genocides fuels diaspora. This nation was meant to be a sanctuary for those who weren’t wanted, for those who were ousted and outcast. What was once a celebrated melting pot is now boiling over and evaporating, leaving burnt remnants of compromise and collaboration. A resurgence of emboldened nationalist and ethnocentric rhetoric label immigrants as foreigners, outsiders, aliens, invaders, or strangers. These people are potential citizens, allies, neighbors and friends. The foundation of this society was built on the backs of immigrants. The alarming frequency of xenophobic, racists, bigoted and intolerant dialogue is replacing acceptance, cooperation, and understanding. Segregation, deportation, and internment camps are becoming normalized and streamlined. Hirokazu Fukawa’s family endured Siberian gulags and the aftermath of World War II in Japan. Olu Oguibe was a child refugee in Biafra during the Nigerian Civil War and later spent many years as a political exile in Britain, escaping Nigeria’s military dictatorship. Joe Bun Keo’s parents are refugees of the Khmer Rouge communist regime that spawned the Killing Fields in Cambodia. Despite the generational differences, these three artists have personal connections to the struggles of seeking asylum in a new world. Their practices aren’t singularly focused on the immigrant experience, but their oeuvre and their attitudes do perpetuate compassion and empathy for such experiences. Strange Names will feature works that highlight the influence of immigration in their works. The exhibition aims not to necessarily be a protest, but more so a lesson on how history can repeat itself in unfortunate ways.