Travel Ban Blunder — Holeh Pocket

This piece is something I wrote at the beginning of 2017 after the Presidential inauguration and subsequent signing of a travel ban against people from Muslim countries, one of which, is a very special place to me. I had originally ended it with a call to action, including where to get more information and resources for reaching out to officials to incite change. The order was eventually blocked, but travel to many of the named countries remains very difficult.

January 28, 2017

I thought I was “woke”. I thought I was informed. I thought I had compassion and respect for the beliefs and causes of others.

But that was easier to say when it didn’t affect me.

I have heard people slander the beautiful and welcoming country my father grew up in, and where much of my family resides now. I have heard people say horrible unfounded things about the intricate verses inscribed on the delicate pages of a book they have never even cracked.

But you let it go. You gently try to educate when possible. And you move on. Until you can’t.

One signature inked today leaves me with a destitute sort of uncertainty and an aching longing for my family on the other side of this crazy, beautiful, messed-up world. Today I yearn for one more chance to sit cross-legged on a handwoven silk carpet, sipping tea from a luminous crystal teacup— earl gray, with a stick of rock candy in lieu of sugar cubes. I pine for the chaotic traffic, window rolled down, tipping my face to to sun as my scarf falls back from the top of my head, inhaling the odious scent of pollution, while gazing over the street signs and across the horizon at a snow-capped wrinkle of mountains, where the air is undeniably cutting, crisp, and clear. Today, I covet the memories with my cousins— driving out of town to find a shop that would serve us hookah and laughing while we blew smoke rings at each other, shouting song lyrics and dancing at family parties until we were dripping with sweat, and running down uneven sidewalks, hurdling over gutters, to get to the shop with the freshest pomegranates so we could share a smoothie in the rain.

This is about more than my summer plans being cancelled. This is about more than the weddings and funerals I will be absent from. This is about more than my cousin’s unborn child that may only ever know me as the smiling high-school senior in the photograph that sits propped on their piano stand. This is about families that are being torn from each other, students that aren’t able to return to school, and relationships that could be irreparably ruptured. This is about the people who spent all of their savings applying and interviewing for a visa and a dream, now just a worthless sheet of copy paper. A contract that will never be fulfilled.

Iran is home to poets, scientists, architects, artists, and some of the most incredible engineers the world will ever know. It is home to men that line up outside the bread shop at first light so their kids can have fresh noon’o’panir for breakfast. It is home to strong women that drive and work and vote and pursue higher education and make impactful decisions. These people do not hate America and they are not defined by their government.

The order signed today is unconstitutional and goes against everything this great nation was founded upon. Do not rely on sensationalized social media memes for information. Read real fact-based articles from unbiased and credible news sources. Decipher the actual legislation. Take the time to educate yourself— about this and about everything else that you care about. With so much information at our fingertips, there is really no excuse.