Anthem

I went to a meeting for the Coalition of Iranian Entrepreneurs tonight with one of my friends at the Olympic Collections Banquet Hall for the first time this evening.

Their guest speaker was Dr. Farid Holakouee, son of well-known Dr. Farhang Holakouee. The topic of discussion for the evening was culture.

There was a crowd of thirty or so people in attendance, majority of them over the age of forty-five.

Dinner was served, networking took place, and thoughts were shared.

I could tell right away that I was amidst a group who shared similar views and opinions regardless of the age difference. I simply came to this conclusion by noticing the pre-revolution Iranian flag pins on the men’s jackets.

As we finished dessert and tea, one of the spokesmen for CIE went up to the podium to welcome everyone to the gathering. Another member of CIE headed towards the stereo in the corner of the banquet hall and pressed play.

To no surprise, everyone got up from their seats as the song started—pre-revolution Iranian national anthem—“Ay Iran.”  (ای ایران )

I along with the others in the room sang, and as I said each word I could feel the chills run down my spine and arms...as they always do when i hear this song.

I controlled myself. I held back my tears. I just sang.

I wondered why this song has such a profound effect on me.  Perhaps it was played often during the time my mom was pregnant with me, since it was the year leading to the 1979 Islamic Revolution, I thought to myself.

My first memory of hearing the anthem in public dates back to 1996. The son of the late Shah of Iran, Reza Pahlavi, was holding a conference in multiple cities within Texas, and I was in attendance. I stood in the conference room in a Dallas hotel next to my family members; and as Reza Pahlavi walked in to the room the anthem started playing. Everyone was standing and singing out loud passionately. As I stood there at the age of sixteen tears flowed down my cheeks like never before.

I can’t remember ever crying in public before then. I don’t know if it was the song, or the song amongst all the patriotic people present in the room; or it might have been the presence of my father standing next to the Prince just as he had done in the past with the late Shah; and the pride and respect that I felt towards these men.

There have been many times after that afternoon in Texas which I have heard the anthem, and every time I have cried; and every time I have missed Iran.

Sidenote: I just took a minute away from writing to log on to YouTube and listen to the anthem. The video which I have included a link to at the end of this blog, has English subtitles, which are as close to perfect of a translation as could be.

When you begin to analyze the songs symbolism and its history, it is very well political; but for me, it is just another way to stay connected to a place I shall never truly be able to consider home. It is a song that gives some of us hope for the future. It is a song that gives some of us remembrance of the past. It is a song that for a short few minutes unites us as Iranians regardless of our upbringing, religion or cultural beliefs...And for some it has no meaning at all.

As I stood in the banquet hall this evening I glanced around the room, and noticed the dozen or so men about my father’s age. I wondered how many of them are able to travel back to Iran, and how many of them like my father, have not been back home in over three decades. I don’t know if I felt sorrow or empathy towards them; perhaps I would just like to imagine that I understand their pain and passion.

Dr. Farid Holakouee spoke about culture, multiculturalism, bi-racial marriages, adapting to new culture, acceptance among peers and just simply wanting to fit in. During his speech my friend who was sitting next to me said, “This is you he’s talking about.” I replied, “Yes, I’m a lost identity.”

I wouldn’t change my life for the world though. I wouldn’t change my personality, my culture, my upbringing or my identity for anything. There have been moments when I have questioned our migration as a family to the United States, but always at the end of my own questioning I realize how happy I am to have travelled this journey through the path set before my family.

I am proud to be Iranian, and I am proud to be a US Citizen. I am proud to say I own over six dozen Iranian CD’s and I am proud to say I love Hip-Hop; and I grew up listening to Black Sheep and Naughty By Nature (do you guys even know who they are)...and, my favorite holidays are the Persian New Year and Thanksgiving.

I am a multi-cultured person.

Someone brought up the question of whether or not there is such a thing as a dominant culture? I joined the conversation as I found it to be an interesting question. I shared my own views on the topic and related them to my own family.

I have two sisters who married outside of our own ethnicity, one Taiwanese and the other African-American. My brother-in-laws accept our culture not because we dominate theirs, but because they respect ours. The more importance you give your culture and the more emphasis you put on it, then the more others will be willing to celebrate and recognize it with you.

But then again, being that Iranians are Persian, and Persians have one of the oldest cultures in our world; and we were the biggest Empire to ever exist; and we had the fairest King of all…well, I guess you could say we are kind of a dominant culture...that was a joke.

At the end of the day we are all human. We might do things differently, we might speak different languages, and we might have different skin colors, believe in a different religion, dress differently or eat different foods…still we are all just human.

Respect.

You can find the lyrics and more information on Wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ey_Iran

YouTube Video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsBKYMSr3YI&feature=colike