Harish Patel was just 15 years old when he immigrated to Chicago from Gujarat, India. His American dream revolved around becoming a doctor-until he got to college and realized he liked philosophy courses a lot more than his pre-med textbooks.
As Patel grappled with telling his mother-who still lived in India-he also struggled to figure out who he was.
"I went through this identity crisis in college, wondering, 'Am I Indian? Am I American? Am I both? What does that mean?'" he said. "The U.S. does that to people. It makes you question who you are."
Questions like these led Patel to scrap Plan A. He graduated from UIC with a degree in political science and a minor in philosophy. Later, he'd return for a master's degree in urban planning and policy.
Today, 29-year-old Patel's business card totes the title of chief connector of Ishi Vest, his own line of chemical-free, fair-trade, organic vests and scarves. Although the Albany Park resident shrugs off the idea of being a fashion designer, he's involved in every aspect of his vests: the design, manufacturing process, sale and message.
It all started when Patel returned from a yearlong trip to India, where he was working with the Association for India's Development. He traveled the country doing site visits to show donors where their money was going. Patel learned a lot about his homeland-he met farmers, visited their fields and found out about the health problems they faced. Pesticide-heavy farming had wreaked havoc on the land and its caretakers, sometimes leading to cancer. The pesticides and chemicals would work to the farmers' advantage for several years, but Patel heard stories of land that stopped producing. With their livelihoods and incomes at stake, some farmers sink into depression. Since 1995, about 300,000 Indian farmers have committed suicide.
"I'm learning all of this and trying to figure out how I'm going to allow myself to change-my food habits and clothing habits-but then also how I'm going to tell these stories of the people I'd met," Patel said. "I didn't want it to be just through reports-very few people read reports and academic journals."
Back in Chicago, Patel started wearing a traditional Indian vest from his travels. Wherever he went, someone would ask about the garment. The conversation eventually turned to Patel's travels, and the stories and struggles of Indian farmers.
"The vest became a tool for me to engage in storytelling. That's where the idea of me telling a story and making a product came together," Patel said. "I didn't know the name of the company or what it would all look like or how I'd do any of it, but I knew I was going to do something to tell the stories."
With vests on his mind, he returned to India in search of a factory that could safely manufacture the product-that meant no pesticides, no chemicals, fair wages and an organic process. Patel found everything he was looking for in Aura, a fair-trade factory just an hour from his hometown.
Patel continued connecting the dots back in Chicago. He recruited friend and ex-roommate Jackie Mahendra to help bring his dreams to life. Mahendra said she could sense Patel's charismatic personality when she met him at an idealist conference in 2007.
"He was trying to breakdance, which I thought was funny. But then I ended up connecting with him," she said. "I thought, 'Here's someone a little goofy who's willing to go out on a limb.' He was very magnetic while creating a community around himself."
It was Mahendra's idea to turn to Kickstarter for backing. And in just a month, the duo surpassed their $10,000 goal, collecting more than $23,000.
"To me, that was a big 'yes' from the community," Patel said.
The duo had the go-ahead to manufacture 300 vests, all of which they sold last year. The colorful garments are part traditional Indian, part modern American-a lot like Patel. Their conventional, narrow collars are contrasted with pockets for cellphones, patterned innards and sleek wooden buttons. What used to be a men's-only line has grown to include women's vests and scarves. Patel said he's looking into adding bow ties and pocket squares to his inventory soon.
"I don't want to work in the fashion world in a traditional sense," he said. "Yes, we have a product-that's the entrance to the fashion world. But the process is so different in that we don't care only about profit."
All the while, Patel holds down a full-time job with the Accelerate Change, where he works with Illinois' immigrant communities. He also helped found Chicago Votes, a local organization that helps engage young voters. Working with Chicago teens and immigrants has helped Patel answer questions about his own past.
"As you get older, you realize that your parents had to make choices that you just think are black and white," Patel said. "I was upset with [my mother] for trying to make me come to the U.S. while she went back to India to have what I thought was a good life or an easy life. Now I realize she did all of this so I would have a better education and a lot more opportunities."
For Patel, the vests lead to a bigger conversation about sustainability-what we choose to put in and on our bodies, where it comes from and how it's created. On a personal level, they've helped him figure out who he is.
"This is a product of my identity crisis, but in some ways a solution," Patel said. "I feel so comfortable in my own skin and the clothes I wear partly because they're my own, but also because they tell the story of my transition."
Morgan Olsen is a RedEye special contributor.
This profile is part of a series about Chicagoans with unique jobs in the arts. Know someone who deserves to be profiled? Email redeye@tribune.com with the subject line "Arts jobs" or tweet us @redeyechicago.
Learn more about ishi vests at ishivest.com.