When Sukhjit Kaur Khalsa stepped onto the stage at her first open mic event in Perth, she had no idea it would be the beginning of a transformative journey. That night, she entered the world of slam poetry—a world that would eventually take her to the prestigious Sydney Opera House, where she would deliver a powerful piece about her body hair.
Khalsa’s initial inspiration to write spoken word poetry came at the age of 18 while studying political science. Introduced to the art form by a friend who shared the works of American poet Sarah Kay, Khalsa saw slam poetry as a rapid means to communicate her political messages. “I was looking for a way to make change and get my political message out there, but I didn’t want to wait,” she recalls. “[Slam poetry] seemed like a good way to do it quickly.”
However, it took a year for Khalsa to muster the courage to write her first poem, which she performed at that pivotal open mic. The poem delved into her experiences as a Sikh woman who, adhering to cultural traditions, does not remove her body hair, yet often feels judged for it. “The poem was so niche and [directed] towards my community, I didn’t know how to translate that to this very mainstream, white audience, but I did it anyway,” Khalsa says.
From Poetry Slams to National Recognition
Khalsa’s debut performance led her to the national finals of the Australian Poetry Slam at the Opera House in 2014, a milestone that propelled her artistic career forward. Since then, her achievements have been nothing short of remarkable. She has been awarded an Order of Australia medal, became CEO of Perth’s Blue Room Theatre, and released her debut book, Fully Sikh: Hot Chips and Turmeric Stains. These accomplishments have all occurred within the last two years.
The trip to Sydney was a turning point for Khalsa. Surrounded by poets and published authors, she realized, “You can do this full-time. You can be an artist.” This revelation set her on a path towards fulfilling her long-held ambition.
Embracing Authenticity on Stage
Even as a child, Khalsa harbored dreams of being an artist. At four years old, she wrote her first play, dictating it to her older sister. “They were always family parodies, with larger-than-life characters,” she reminisces. “But [within that] there was a deep issue that little me wouldn’t have known was a deep issue.”
As she matured, Khalsa began writing and performing observational poetry, often touching on her spirituality and early experiences of racism. Despite performing these works at school, she remained shy until slam poetry encouraged her to embrace her true self on stage. “I hated myself, hated my body hair, hated not belonging,” she confesses.
Riding the momentum from the Australian Poetry Slam, Khalsa moved to Melbourne at 20, with only $500 to her name. She sought to escape the perceived limitations of Perth’s arts scene, including its isolation and lack of opportunities. In Melbourne, she landed a high-profile gig on Australia’s Got Talent in 2016, which opened doors to international opportunities, including facilitating poetry workshops with Sikh communities across North America, Southeast Asia, and New Zealand.
“It was very exciting, but it was also a rollercoaster,” she recalls. “I don’t remember most of it.”
Transitioning to Theatre and Beyond
While in Melbourne, Khalsa was invited by Perth’s Barking Gecko Arts and Black Swan State Theatre Company to return home and create a spoken word production for young people. This project evolved over three years into the stage show Fully Sikh, which premiered in 2019 and earned her the WA Performing Arts Award for Best Newcomer. “It was the first Sikh play in Australia,” she notes.
The production was a cultural fusion, with audiences removing their shoes upon entering the theatre and some even helping Khalsa cook a Punjabi meal. “It was a f***ing hard experience, but you need to do those fights, so the next theatre-maker can go: ‘No, that was done’ [and create their own show].”
The onset of the pandemic in 2020 prompted another career pivot for Khalsa. She began exploring filmmaking and writing for digital platforms. “There’s a lot of problem-solving and it’s not necessarily super creative,” she says. “It’s actually logical and takes longer and more money.”
This exploration led her to consider producing as her next career move, ultimately leading her to the leadership of Blue Room Theatre. There, she is focused on creating opportunities that were scarce when she left for Melbourne and inviting new audiences into the theatre. “I’ve never had a full-time job in my life; I’ve always been a freelancer,” Khalsa admits. “[This] was my chance to delve into an arts organisation that has the same values as me.”
Redefining Her Artistic Identity
Reflecting on her slam poetry days, Khalsa views them as an exercise in educating audiences about Sikh identity in Australia. “It was like ‘Sikh PR’, [saying] ‘We’re not terrorists’,” she explains. However, she no longer feels the need to focus solely on this aspect of her identity.
Now, Khalsa is expanding her artistic horizons, working on screen projects, a rom-com musical, and new music. “I want to embrace fun,” she says. “I want to find joy in the mundane or even in chaos or when things aren’t perfect.”
Despite her evolving focus, Khalsa remains a role model for younger culturally and linguistically diverse artists and producers. “I’ve been aware of [being a role model] since the moment I went on Australia’s Got Talent,” she acknowledges. It’s a responsibility she carries into her role at Blue Room Theatre.
“I just feel this responsibility,” she says. “There’s very few of us that have been given these opportunities. I just want to make the most of it.”
Yet, Khalsa’s ambitions stretch far beyond her current role. “Why am I letting imposter syndrome and systemic barriers stop me from wanting to maybe be the arts minister one day? Those are the goals that inspire me to keep going.”
