yes

I have a technical writer. I remember hearing a motivational speaker comment about how people ask why skinny people run. They don't need to do it. But, it was precisely because they did it that they were thin and healthy. And so it goes with my writing. I am good at writing, I always have been. But I want to keep getting better, finding more and more ways to use words to captivate, educate, and empower my audience. It's no easy task. I have to immerse myself sometimes to truly harness this ability.

She didn't call me back today and I am hungry. So hungry for her critiques, her improvements, her suggestions. I have always loved improving myself, that's why I like things like dental visits.

I stare at the phone as if I'm waiting for a long lost lover. She won't call me back until tomorrow. My words sit and wait.

fly like paper

This weekend, I'm heading to Dallas. I have been invited to do two presentations, one Saturday and one Sunday. They are both in Farsi. I am feeling the usual anxiety I always feel before I speak publicly in Farsi. But there's something else. As I am preparing mentally for this trip and planning my speeches, I feel the distinct sense that this is right. This is what I am supposed to be, this is who I am supposed to be. I am a bridge, and I have always known it. Living in three countries by the age of six, I learned at an early age to relate to all kinds of people and thus help them relate to each other.

My role is still the same. I am a nomad, not completely part of this world or that one, but part of all worlds. I connect worlds with my writing, sharing the wisdom of one group with another, combining the forces of dedicated passion with raw idealism and natural curiosity, so that we can all work together for social change.

Right now, I am in self-imposed isolation, and it is what I need to do for the time being. It will be different in a few months, but for now this is the way it is. I miss people, but I have to concentrate. I am so close to being done, so close to obtaining the key that will open the door to all my dreams, that I can taste it. Time-wise, it's still far off in the distance, but in terms of finishing coursework and milestones I am getting damn close!

I am grateful to know that I have friends who will allow me this space, and welcome me back with open arms, when I emerge from my cocoon. I think my dreams are coming true.

you have me confused with someone else

you thought something you said or did could take away my power?
please.
you have me confused with someone else.

you thought you could hold me down and make me stay?
please.
you have me confused with someone else.

you thought you could pull a fast one, say some shit but do another, then expect me to feel the same?
please.
you have me confused with someone else.

you thought you could throw away our friendship because another asked you to, and you think i will care enough to want to say goodbye?
please.
you have me confused with someone else.

you thought you could violate me, then blame it on me being desirable and expect me to want you in my life?
please.
you have me confused with someone else.

you thought you could take advantage of my gender's curse of being programmed to please people, that because I smile I will not stand up for myself?
please.
you have me confused with someone else.

you thought you could shove your nose into where it doesn't belong, disrespecting my privacy, and expected me not to draw boundaries?
please.
you have me confused with someone else.

someone i used to be, someone that slouched, a piece of me i still love because she is me
someone who walked in the shadows, who felt lost,
tried to blend in.

that is no longer me.

i am not afraid to walk away, i am not afraid to be alone, i am not afraid of the darkness
i measure my time and think before i speak
but i am no longer afraid
i am alive
and you will hear my voice.

and if you hear my voice being shaky, because i get nervous, because i wonder if i live up to the standards i have for myself,
do not mistake it for weakness.

and for those who truly see me
you won't confuse me with anyone else.

freedom

I got a new bike today. Well, not new, but new to me. It happened by accident, drifted into my life by chance and at no cost to me. It's my first mountain bike, and it's so light, and smooth, and lovely. I can sit down the whole way and it doesn't feel uncomfortable.

I soar in the streets, I hum with nature, I dance. There's something about biking. I think it's partly the act of biking itself: the feeling of flying, the world passing by like silent memories, the whirlwind of colors, sounds, and shapes. But, for me, it's also the entering of spaces where cars cannot fit, being able to swerve into the corners and shadows. This is how I live my life, noticing opportunities others don't see, exploring the tiny unventured paths only to find treasure.

  

weaving

"Please share your story."

I have a million things on my mind, lost in a sea of transition, and he wants my story.

But he is one of the people I respect most in the whole world and he is a major reason I have been a successful graduate student. I used to look at his online picture, read his materials, wonder what he was like. Now I am one of his top students.

I try to ignore his request at first. I went about my day, but it was always in the back of my mind. My story weaves itself constantly anyway, but his request added color and richness.

Then, at the right moment, I write my story. I read his and give my impressions. I attach both. My story is personal and I have a tiny moment of doubt. I click send.

He wrote back last night with his comments. His words give me the balance I need; that's why he's such a great mentor.

Writing is an awesome process.

a new hat

Today I attended an all-day workshop to teach me how to teach. Teaching is a lot like counseling--you meet students at their level, you provide structure in the first meeting but remain flexible, but there seems to be a fundamental difference.

As a therapist, I consider myself empowerment-focused. I try to neutralize the inherent power deferential between myself and the client. I enter their world, and we collaborate to find solutions. Minimizing the power difference helps clients find their own answers.

In the world of teaching, power is different, perhaps because my job is to help people master concepts, perhaps because I will evaluate them on how well they do it. I think also keep hearing that for undergraduate classes, a great deal of structure and boundaries are needed. It is important to establish myself as a professional right off the bat, thereby increasing rather than decreasing the power deferential. (For grad students it is different.)

But I'll probably still sneak some empowerment-focused activities into my undergrad teaching, teaching how to fish and so forth. This is my first semester as the primary instructor.

I'm excited about wearing this new hat. I think it will look good on me.

Two worlds

I have lived in two cultures for as long as I can remember. In the sixth grade, a classmate called me Saddam Hussain's little sister. My Iranian identity went into hiding after that, although it remained an important part of me. I feared people finding out, so I taught myself to be an invisible minority, the ambiguously brown girl. The journey to becoming who I am now, someone who is so proud of being an Iranian woman that she wears it on her neck for all to see, is long and a story for another day. My background no doubt has an impact on who I am and what form my activism takes. I am more convinced now than ever that there is great benefit in spreading awareness about Iranian women's and human rights struggles. I want to discuss this issue more with people and I want to write about it. Spreading awareness to induce collaboration, not a rescue mission, because I think people have more power now than ever. Grassroots efforts can become worldwide collaborations, as long as the individuals continue to work together and people don't lose site of the grassroots essence. Three images released in the Vietnam War changed Americans forever and ultimately ended the war.  If a military strike on Iran does happen, people, just ordinary people, do have the power of change. Especially now, as the recent Gaza incident shows, international activists and outrage can produce change as well. It may not be significant change in some eyes, but not all change is revolutionary and immediate.

And this inducing collaboration, especially among English speakers, is where I see myself in this movement, among English speakers.