Not alone anymore

I was born and grew up in New York.

My mother immigrated from Korea in the 1960’s and my father immigrated from Iran at the same time. They met during their residency, an unlikely couple in so many ways and still married and living a life together almost 50 years later.

I never learned any Farsi or Korean. English was their only common language and it was clearly a priority to make sure my brother and I were raised just like other American boys. Following my mom’s faith, my brother and I were baptized Roman Catholic and attended Catholic high school.

Some of my earliest memories of elementary school were super positive and happy. Playing anywhere we could find a ball, stickball at lunch, soccer on the field and football any time in between.

I never thought twice about my name being different — until 5th grade.

Then I realized I was different.

It was the start of the Iran hostage crisis. American diplomats and citizens were held as hostages in Iran shortly after the revolution. It was horrible and stressful for all of us in the United States. We all worried about our fellow citizens and worried intensely about their safety and well being.

Things changed for me at our public school during that time. My close friends remained my close friends. But a number of older kids found out that my dad was from Iran. And that’s when the harassment and bullying began. My parents became American citizens but it didn’t matter. I was the only (half or whole) middle eastern kid in the school and I was easy target I suppose. I got nasty notes in my cubby. They mocked my name and my skin color. I got into a few fights. And I vividly remember the older kids spitting on me one day. In many ways that all feels so long ago and just like yesterday.

And while I had a loving family and close friends, there were real painful moments of feeling alone. Feeling like I was the only person that could possibly feel this way because I was different than anyone else. I never told the teachers or my brother (he was only 5 at the time). I never shared this with my parents either.

All these years passed and I have not felt any change inside about my those memories or my ethnicity. Especially the Iranian side of things. It’s just this part of me that represents those lonely days that sometimes comes back into my thoughts. I’ve grown up in a place where my perception over the years is that most folks really don’t think about people from Iran with any fondness or care.

And then on Friday, the Trump administration launched a new executive order to punish refugees and to make good on a campaign promise to ban Muslims from entering the United States. Since the ban blocked Iran amongst other Muslim countries, I guess I sort of assumed the response from the American public would be mixed or muted. Especially given all the many other objectionable actions this administration launched during the first week of the Trump Presidency.

By the afternoon, I felt so much heart ache about this ban. I called my wife Lauren and we both agreed to start a crowdfunding campaign that afternoon to support the ACLU. I assumed it would take a few months to hit our $50k goal.

Boy, was I ever wrong.

The country roared back across the nation to protest and take a stand against the Muslim ban. Citizens took to the streets and to the airports. Lawyers went to the airports to help any way possible. Twitter lit up with a never ending stream of powerful videos, photos and messages objecting to this new executive order. Senators on both sides of the aisle objected and so did technology CEOs at the largest companies in the world. Our ACLU campaign reached the target in less than 3 days! Many others launched ACLU crowdfunding campaigns to support the cause. This afternoon the ACLU announced they raised over $19MM in less than 48 hours. People everywhere are taking a stand against hate, against fear mongering, against bigotry and against racism.

I have always considered myself a proud American and a firm believer in the American spirit. And this weekend my soul is bursting with optimism.

Yes, we still have a great deal of work ahead of us. The challenges are real and very serious.

But I don’t feel alone anymore.