The same newspapers and television stations that tell us what is chic to wear and what foods are all the rage has decided that Iran is like "yesterday". We are to believe that where the camera men point their lenses is the only reality worth considering. The Michael Jackson funeral lives on as our latest "chewing gum for the mind".
It may take motivation. It may take determination. But I have not taken my mind off of Iran. To me it is down the street. I have Iranian neighbours. I like their music and food. Their pride in the country they came from reminds me of my own family and how they felt about Germany, Hungary , Croatia and Israel. I understand their patriotism just like I understand any proud father showing me pictures of his baby. Everyone has a family. Everyone has a country.
We are being molded into the type of people who must have the latest i-phone, who must try the latest food fads and clothing fashions. I could not care less about that. I do know that Iranians are dying. They are being rounded up, their dissenting voices slowly strangled to a hoarse whisper and then towards silence.
I am only a generation from living under dictatorship. Even though I talk in my sleep in English, the freedoms of this country are to me like a new suit that is still a novelty to me. My namesake was murdered fighting for the freedom I was born to. When I see bloodied demonstrators, I see my brothers. You can not switch the channel on me. You can not change the subject. These people are my brothers. I feel shame that they are bleeding and dying for the same rights I take for granted.
You can not change the subject. You can not change the channel. My namesake was murdered for speaking the truth. He hid from the Germans and refused to be silent. As long as Iranians dare to speak and to struggle, my great uncle lives also. I will not change the channel away from Iran. I will not forget them. I wish I could do more.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwRUBGV-9Q0
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