How Fully Sikh author Sukhjit Kaur Khalsa's life was shaped by slam poetry

When Sukhjit Kaur Khalsa walked into her first open mic in Perth, she didn't know she was entering a poetry slam — one that would lead her to the Sydney Opera House where she would talk about her body hair.

She was first inspired to write spoken word poetry when she was 18 and studying political science, and a friend introduced her to the American poet Sarah Kay.

"I was looking for a way to make change and get my political message out there, but I didn't want to wait," she says.

"[Slam poetry] seemed like a good way to do it quickly."

Yet it took a year for Khalsa to gain the courage to write her first poem, which she read at that Perth open mic.

The poem explored her experience as a Sikh woman, who doesn't remove her body hair for cultural reasons, but sometimes feels judged for being unshaven.

"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.

It landed her in the national final of the Australian Poetry Slam at the Opera House in 2014, setting her career in the arts in motion.

Since then, she's earned an Order of Australia medal; become CEO of Perth independent theatre, Blue Room, which this week launches its 2026 season; and released her debut book, Fully Sikh: Hot Chips and Turmeric Stains. 

And that's just the last two years.

Khalsa says that trip to Sydney jump-started her career, because there, surrounded by poets and published authors, she realised something: "You can do this full-time. You can be an artist."

Being herself on stage

Being an artist was a long-held ambition, even if Khalsa didn't realise she could make it a reality.

At four years old, Khalsa wrote her first play, dictating it to her older sister.

"They were always family parodies, with larger-than-life characters," she says. "But [within that] there was a deep issue that little me wouldn't have known was a deep issue."

As she got older, she started to write and perform observational poetry, sometimes about her spirituality and early experiences of racism.

Even though she performed those poems at school, she still felt shy, until slam poetry forced her to be herself on stage.

"I hated myself, hated my body hair, hated not belonging," she says.

Khalsa used the momentum of the Australian Poetry Slam to move to Melbourne, at 20, with just $500 in her pocket.

It was an escape from what she saw as the strictures of the arts scene in Perth, including its relative isolation and a lack of opportunities for artists.

In Melbourne, she landed her highest-profile gig yet: Australia's Got Talent, in 2016.

That led to opportunities overseas, where she would facilitate poetry workshops with Sikh communities in North America, south-east Asia and New Zealand.

"It was very exciting, but it was also a rollercoaster," she says. "I don't remember most of it."

Shift into theatre

While Khalsa was in Melbourne, she was invited by Perth's Barking Gecko Arts and Black Swan State Theatre Company to return home to create a spoken word production for young people.

It took three years and became the stage show Fully Sikh, which premiered in 2019, and saw her win the WA Performing Arts Award for Best Newcomer.

"It was the first Sikh play in Australia," she says.

Audiences took their shoes off in the theatre, and upon entering, some even helped Khalsa cook a Punjabi meal. It was a blending of cultures that excited her.

"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]."

In 2020, the pandemic forced another career pivot: She started looking into filmmaking and writing for the digital space.

"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."

That inspired her to look into producing as her next career move — which took her to the leadership of Blue Room Theatre. There, she's focused on creating the opportunities that were lacking 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 says.

"[This] was my chance to delve into an arts organisation that has the same values as me.

Educating audiences

Khalsa looks back on her slam poetry as an exercise in educating her audience about what it means to be a Sikh person in Australia.

"It was like 'Sikh PR', [saying] 'We're not terrorists'," she explains.

But she isn't interested in doing that anymore.

Now, she sees her identity as an artist as being about more than being Sikh, and is working on screen projects, a rom-com musical, and new music.

"I want to embrace fun," Khalsa says. "I want to find joy in the mundane or even in chaos or when things aren't perfect."

At the same time, she 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 says.

It's a sense of obligation that she brings to 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."

But the job is only the first step towards larger ambitions, and Khalsa is the only person standing in her way.

"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."