host: Welcome to Postcards, where we discuss people, policy and politics. Today we’re talking about art as a medium of expression, resistance and storytelling, particularly through illustration and comics. We’re joined by Etha.

host: Where does the name Etha come from?

speaker: It is a short form of my longer name. It started when I was very young because I kept pointing at objects and asking for them in my own way, and my mother began calling me Etha. The name simply stuck. It is also a commonly used short name in Bengali and I later found it was common in Indonesia.

host: Where did you grow up, and where did your love for art begin?

speaker: I grew up in a single-mother household. My mother was an activist and teacher, and because she was working, I needed something I could do independently for long periods. Drawing became that activity. It was also a way of processing life and changes happening around me.

speaker: My mother was a feminist activist and often attended protests and women’s meetings, so I went along with her. There were always colours and paper with me, so I ended up drawing at protest sites. Some of my earliest drawings came from those spaces. I was not consciously understanding the politics at the time, but I was surrounded by people organizing, talking and questioning.

speaker: I was also given a lot of freedom at home. I could draw on walls, and my mother sometimes joined me in making murals. That freedom mattered. Drawing became a way of creating space for myself and processing things. It has been part of my life for as long as I can remember.

host: Art education can sometimes be the opposite of that freedom. How do you see that?

speaker: A lot of formal art education can crush creativity. I remember being taught that mountains, rivers and flowers had to be drawn in a particular way. There was little connection between imagination and the drawing process.

speaker: During lockdown, I drew with my niece and encouraged her to spill paint, make stories and experiment. When she returned to school, the teacher rejected that approach. It showed me how something that can build confidence and self-expression can also be used to control creativity.

speaker: A lot of my own drawing happened when I was bored and had to invent a world of my own. That taught me that you can create worlds for yourself rather than constantly looking outside for inspiration.

host: If you had to explain art to a seven-year-old, what would you say art is?

speaker: I would rather they simply do what they want with it. Through my work in schools, care homes and other spaces, I have learned that art is more useful as a process than as an object. You draw, look at what you have made, add something, change it and keep exploring.

speaker: Children are fantastic at creating inner worlds. They can draw four-headed dogs, strange families and forms that cross species. I would tell a child that art is a space where there is no right or wrong, but also that they should stay with the process. One sheet of paper and a few crayons can be enough for hours.

host: How do you handle art when the work is going to remain in a public space, such as a school mural?

speaker: When work is public-facing, I become more methodical. If children are making a mural that will remain in a school, I usually create a longer process. We plan, decide where things will go and then make the work. The children can then feel pride in producing something that others will see.

speaker: At the same time, I prefer processes that are spread over many days rather than compressed into a high-pressure workshop. We can use theatre games, movement and conversations so that people remain present rather than focusing only on the final product.

host: How did growing up around feminist activism influence your art?

speaker: For me, activist women became a kind of extended family. My mother’s work exposed me to women organizing around gender justice and other issues. Those conversations were also part of everyday life at home. Questions about caste, gender, family and institutions were not separated from dinner or ordinary conversation.