Silence or not?

There are times you have to speak up.
Like when your basic rights are violated,
When you are betrayed,
When you are considered a fool.
You need to declare you know,
You are not stupid,
You cannot be taken advantage of.
Your anger makes it easy to recognize this situation,
And even easier to speak up.

Then there are times you need to honor silence,
To honor a special trust,
To declare that you know s/he/they know/s.
You are just waiting for them
To do or say what they need to say.
You know it is just a matter of time,
Not whether or not they do the right thing.
If you do not last long enough and ask the inevitable question,
You may be considered as someone who does not trust the other person.
Recognizing this situation is hard.
Honoring silence is harder.
Being patient is the hardest.

I am Invisible!

We sat next to each other
Day after day
Year after year
I learned today
He never knew me

I always trusted him
Day after day
Year after year
I learned today
He never trusted me
Worse, he even betrayed my trust.

I am invisible
At least to many
No matter how close they are to me
Or how often they see me

I am invisible
I have to learn to live with that
Day after day
Year after year.

My Home is Gone.

I remember those days,
When I was a little girl,
So much in need of protection,
For Saddam could send a missile anytime.

I remember those nights,
When my family and I would sleep under our home's stairs,
Which served as our shelter.
I remember hearing the alarm drills,
Warning us of an upcoming attack.
Yet, I do not recall being scared
Not even once.
Not even during the three months that I lived in Kaazeroon.
A small city close to Shiraz.
I was there with some relatives,
To stay away from possible air strikes.

I carried as much a normal life as I could have during those years.
I would go to school,
I would worry about my grades and rank.
I would watch my afternoon cartoons.
I was never scared.

What is it now,
That so many years later,
In such a safe country
With so many resources,
Where any help is a phone call,
Or maybe a credit card number away,
I worry so easily?

What is it now,
That even when I talk everyday to my parents,
And yet they play their role in reassuring me they are fine,
I worry so much.

Oh, my home is gone,
I am so far away,
I am so helpless,
I have no shelter to turn to,
I am not my parents' little girl anymore,
I am facing the whole world alone.

I have much greater appreciation for how my parents carried life
For I know now how hard it is to stay calm
They gave me a home.
A home I felt safe in.
A home I have not been able to build for myself yet.
A home that may never be replaced.

My home is gone now.
My home is gone.
And I am watching it falling apart.
My home is gone.

It Is Only Us!

It is only us who feels the pain
It is only us who is restless
Facing these long lonely nights
It is only us
And the weight of this loneliness hurts.

Moshi Monsters

Forget about fixing the water pipes
Patching the dry walls
Painting the house

Forget about the upcoming election
Responding to everyone's comment
Convincing everyone why voting is vital to our destiny

Forget about the proposal deadlines at work
Analysis reports
Summer interns and projects

Forget about delayed phone calls to relatives
Forget about long over due visits

You are given a crucial task above all this:
To take care of an imaginary pet
For your nieces have made you a Moshi Monsters account
"Dear Aunt Nargess,
we have made you a moshi monsters acount. Your user name is -- your password is --
Victoria Natalie"

Human Rights

My colleagues and I usually get many mass e-mails at work on a daily basis. Some are about daily news and activities on center. Some about someone forgetting to turn off their car lights. Some about mandatory trainings we should take. The list is long. We have got pretty good at going through them quickly.

A few years ago, one of these e-mails stood out. I initially had read it quickly. It sounded like the building manager was reporting on maintenance of one of the restrooms. As I was about to delete it, I noticed something odd. Everyone could use that restroom. It was now a unisex bathroom! What? Really?!

I recalled the Ally McBeal show and how its unisex bathroom was the source of controversy and so many stories. The e-mail went on emphasizing guidelines for using this new bathroom. I could not understand it. Why were they introducing complications to a work place? It was not like a new law was passed that required work places have a unisex bathroom!

Apparently, I was not the only one who was puzzled. We started talking among each other, and by word of mouth the mystery revealed itself very fast: an employee in our building had had a sex-change operation. Before the operation, he was legally considered a man. After the operation, he became a she. Apparently, there is a law that says he should live with his new gender for at least three months before he could legally be recognized as a woman. So, in this three-month period, she cannot use the ladies' bathroom legally. She cannot go to the men's bathroom either because she does not look like men anymore. Legally, the employer should provide restroom for the employees. The employer cannot discriminate or fire a person based on sex/gender either. So, they have to provide her a bathroom. On the other hand, the employer cannot say this is just for that person's personal use. It should be available to all employees. So, the bathroom is made unisex and it is announced to everyone they can use it if they wish!

It was strange. Part of me actually felt proud working where every individual is valued this much.

Toilet Education

It was almost a year ago. I was coming back from a conference in San Diego. Before the flight, I went to use the ladies room. A mother and her small son entered the stall next to me. The boy asked something along the lines of whether girls had the same body parts as his. I could not help hearing how this mother was going to teach the differences to her son. "No" she said. "God created man in his own image, and then he created the woman for him, so you should remember to be kind to your wife when you grow up". She then went on emphasizing how the woman's body is not perfect like his. The message was to be kind and nice to women when he grew up, but not for the right reasons. It was patronizing. You have the perfect body, you are the image of God, and she is not. She was made for you, so the least you can do is be kind to her. In a restroom in San Diego's international airport, a boy learned from his mother he is the image of God and perfect, and women are created for him and are not perfect. In fact, he must have already felt superior to his own mom! I was puzzled during my whole flight.