for as long as we’ve been around, there has been this sort of separation that each of us has instilled in one another. we are human beings first before anything else. yet, we factionalize based on slight differences in shade, geography, or even ideas. why? for, we didn’t choose to be here just like our neighbors to our left and our right – we just are and that’s okay. the problem is, we’ve always been seeking some sort of answer, and everyone claims they have one, but each of us is as clueless as the rest. because I don’t think there is any answer. or one we can even begin to fathom. I’m just happy to be here now, present in this moment – typing on my keyboard, thinking of nothing else but this lingering thought.

it’s bittersweet that the semester is ending and I’m glad to have been able to share my thoughts and collaborate with you all. if you’ve made it this far I want you to know that you’re amazing and I truly, truly, wish you the best in all your endeavors – wherever they may take you.

I remember talking in class about how in society we tend to value “mind” over “body” more and how confused I was. I understood the pretext, and the dichotomy between logic and emotion – yet, I felt as if my story didn’t fit this narrative. You see, growing up in a conservative Middle Eastern household meant we didn’t talk about these things. The thought of someone in my family having a mental illness was without a doubt out of the question, according to my father. But why was this stigma wrapped around our minds and not our bodies? Why is it okay then to go get a standard physical but an outrage to talk to a therapist? This is the stubborn mentality that harms communities and will only continue to fester unless there is some clear dialogue put into place. According to Erving Goffman, stigma is defined as the “process at which the reaction of others spoils normal identity” – but I think under my father’s stoicism is a little boy who longs for help yet is too afraid. Too afraid to be seen any different that what he is – the strong provider for his family. But who is going to provide for him? These questions flood my head constantly and I think it’s extremely important to have these conversations, because it certainly isn’t weak to talk about mental health. It’s weak not to.

With the constant hustle and bustle of our ever changing society, it seems like taking a break is viewed as “weak”. We’re expected to perform 120% every single day with little to no leeway or remorse – but why is that? I understand in the working world, notice is required if you want to take off – but how can you plan the unexpected two weeks in advance? Things happen and it’s okay, but time and time again employers, teachers, and society in general show us that it’s not. I’ve worked in the restaurant industry for years and one story always stays with me. I had worked a double shift the previous night and I was expected to come into work in the morning. This was a typical weekend for me, but I was going through a lot outside of work and didn’t have easy access to an iron for my shirt and pants. As much as I wanted to take off, I knew I couldn’t without repercussions. I went in that morning and within 5 minutes my manager looked at my shirt, (I really tried my best to uncrumple it without an iron lol) and sent me home. I mean, I guess I got what I wanted – but why did I have to go through all that when I was ready to work, just to be treated like that? You take abuse for years in that industry, just to come out with little to nothing to show for it.

The laboring body is incredibly important in putting the pieces together, whether we realize it or not, but that doesn’t mean the body should take abuse by the isolating effect or how Slavishak put it “[it] is easy to lose sight of human labor in a capitalist system centered on service, global outsourcing, and automated assembly”. We all have a wealth of unique situations – that’s what makes us human –  but we shouldn’t be punished or viewed differently because we took a day or two off. I guess it’s getting better though, every day, and it helps that we are having dialogue about this now. It’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to breathe and live. We’re not corporate machines – our mental and physical well-being comes before anything else. One day at a time.

“Women, Life, Freedom!” These are the chants being heard around Iran right now. Twenty-two-year-old Mahsa Amini was arrested for breaking strict hijab laws earlier this week – a few days later she died in police custody. This has sparked outrage in the country that hasn’t been seen since the protests of 2009. In 2009 it was a different story, and protests were silenced promptly with killings by the harsh regime. Today – we are connecting even faster with the advance of social media and communication systems, giving the world a glimpse of injustices all around. We are seeing the women of Iran dancing on the streets sans headscarves, clashing with morality police. We are seeing the men of Iran standing side-by-side with their women counterparts, dreaming of a better future for their children. For too long have the women of Iran, with their strong resolve and hope, been the victims of an inhumane system. These laws have been around for a little over 40 years. My parents escaped in 1980 because of the change in dynamic that came after the revolution – everyone was scared of what would happen next. My parents thought it would only be a few years before they could go back home –  they didn’t think they’d have to start whole new lives somewhere else. That wasn’t the case, however, and there are many people (members of the diaspora) just watching on the sidelines, hoping that one day they can go back home too. 

This is the phenomenology that I experience through my mom and dad, through the memories of when I was a kid, or through my family members who weren’t as “blessed” as we were to leave. Our land was taken over by vultures – who were only there to line their own pockets and suck out every last drop from the innocent. The cowards say it’s in the name of God, but these people aren’t Muslim or even religious for that matter – they’re thieves hiding behind a facade and destroying a beautiful culture and country in the process. If recent history shows anything, I think these protests will be on the news for a few days to be eventually forgotten – but I don’t think the will of the Iranian people is one to forget. They are hungry for change and I hope that we get to see that, at least in my lifetime. No government, no power, no faction, and no regime is stronger than the will of a woman – and with that, I am confident.