Passive Agression

My parents were right - this regime is growing more oppressive by the day. It seems as if their mission is to make all of us, especially the women, hermits in our houses, leaving only to pray to some God that I used to believe in. I am forced to find small ways to rebel, like smoking my first cigarette or cutting class to journey into to the rich neighborhood. I feel like these small revolutions are the only path to change. Like Iron Maiden and Kim Wilde before me, it is my turn to forge my own identity in a world slowly choking the ambitions of youth. Sometimes I feel like my Parents feel the same way, always having illicit parties and attempting small bouts of protest, but I can tell they are still playing to the man. However, I feel no need to struggle against them anymore as individuals. Still, sometimes, they need to be disobeyed as subjects complicit to the rule of tyrants. The wheels of revolution are like those of a bicycle, they must keep turning or they collapse to the ground. It's time for the youth to rise up and create their own culture.

Waning Wars

I think things are starting to change around here. After the death of Anoosh, my parents had been suspiciously nice to me, becoming nearly tolerable. But then the war started. At first, I was full of intense national pride - I was ready to join the fight and become a martyr for my own country. The regime's changing policies were all forgotten, and we became fully invested in avenging our nation. However, the war keeps dragging on. My parents have grown increasingly skeptical, convinced that this war is being perpetuated by the government as a distraction to consolidate their own power, and I'm starting to see their point. Besides, the grocery stores have been nearly empty for years now, and I'm growing tired of beating my chest. My parents still seem like their overreacting, but maybe they aren't the ones wrong this time - perhaps it's everyone else. I mean they are starting to make sense, and their ideas are consistent with everything going on here: They're totally crazy, as usual, but maybe they're also right.

Veiled Intentions

When I walked into school this morning, it was as if a cloud had descended upon every young woman in the entire school. In fact, it was not a cloud - it was a thin bit of dark fabric with an apparently bleak meaning. The Islamists have finally gained power and decided that we would be the first recipients of their cultural revolution, as we are now required to wear veils and be covered at all times. To be completely honest, I'm not really sure what the meaning of all of it is. My mother and grandmother absolutely abhor the thing, but I just see it as a slightly inconvenient piece of cloth. I suppose there is some symbolism to it, but it's not the end of the world, is it? I think it's a small price to pay for the revolution Anyway, my teacher has been talking about the new regime like they are heroes, which my parents say are just ignorant radicals. I don't think my parents understand the real struggle it took to get over the shah. How could they be opposed to the revolution when they themselves were on the streets protesting? I, for myself, am ready to defend the ideals of Karl Marx and Che Guevara for the success of our country against the repression of the Shah! My parents can be content to sit back and let our hard work go to waste.

The Pursuit of Justice

Hooray! The revolution is complete! The country rejoices, but somehow, not my parents. They are always suspicious of the new leaders, claiming their victory the result of the people's ignorance. How can they say that when it is the very thing they were fighting for? Not only that, but they want to stop the active pursuit of justice - when my friends and I learned Ramin's father was a member of the Savak, we needed him to pay for the misdeeds of his family. We were going to use American brass muscles and beat him like Bruce lee would, until my mother foiled our righteous plans. She said something about it not being Ramin's fault only his father's which I kind of get, but it makes me question her motives and dedication to the revolution. On the bright side, uncle Anoosh, a real life hero of the revolution, has come to stay with us! He was in prison for fighting against the Shah after escaping to Russia and learning of Marx and Lenin, all the revolutionaries against capitalist elites like the Shah. He knew so much, and love his stories. My parents are scared he's a bad influence on me, another example of their own ignorance. They can't even respect a hero in their midst, not to mention a member of their own family. They have just been so frustrating.

Practice What You Preach

I feel like my parents are increasingly out of touch. I really don't get why they laugh at the deaths of martyrs, like yesterday with the story about the widow. Everyone is making a dedicated sacrifice to our people, to them. Sometimes I feel like even though they are protesting, they are not entirely supportive. I can't stand how much they have been restricting me - a curfew, no playing in the street, I'm not allowed to go to protests. They got so mad when Mehri and I went to protest - I think they just don't like her because she is our maid. They share a lot of the ideas of the bourgeoise sometimes - it's as if they want the dangerous capitalism to continue. I wish they would practice what they preach, but they keep blaming it on the "real world" and that I'm just too young to understand. Well, I've been reading, and I think I have a pretty good idea of our societies problems. If they keep protesting they should have their every day actions back them up, like letting me protest! They should be looking for every opportunity to advance the revolution if they were true supporters. As I always say, "the revolution is like the wheels on a bicycle - if they stop turning, everything falls over."