Dideban 1

Ariana Dideban

Ms. Everett

Honors American Literature

6 September 2016

An American in Tehran

I feel most American when Im not in America. Here in America, when people ask

me, Where are you from? What are you? I respond, Im Iranian. I never say Iranian-

American. Yet, everything changes when Im abroad. Suddenly, it becomes a large part of

me. When I landed in Tehran, I was no longer Iranian, I was American. I shared the same

blood as the people around me, but somehow I looked, walked, talked, and acted

differently. Living in America, its easy to forget that being American isnt just one thing.

You dont have to be white with ancestors who came off the Mayflower.

Walking down the tree lined streets of Tehran, I looked at the bustling world

around me. Tehran is nothing like Los Angeles, in fact its nothing like America. There is

the relentless noise of the city that never dies, and the heat that penetrates through my

headscarf and manteau. It is a vibrant city and life seems eternal. Looking around, I

sought acceptance and solace from the people, my people. I walked among people who

looked like me, and for once in my life I didnt stick out, I blended in. Yet, thats not

completely true, because I will never fully be Iranian. I thought that having the same skin

color and language would make me one of them, but I didnt realize my experiences were

completely different from theirs. I was born and raised in America, I have a thick

American accent when I speak Farsi, and without realizing it the morals and principles of
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America have been etched into my brain. Being American has become apart of my

identity.

I most realized my American roots at the Tehran International School, where I

studied for three weeks. At the school, there were people from all over the world.

Everyone was identified by their home country, Megan from England, Riaz from New

Zealand, Tio Tim from France. I was the only full Iranian, yet I was Ariana from

America. Being the only American was like being a rare species in the wild. There were

many shocked faces, wide eyes, and questions about obesity. Even when I wasnt at the

school, all the Iranians I met were in awe and envy when they found out I was American.

At first, it baffled me, why were they envious? I soon came to an understanding that I had

something they didnt. All my life I had taken for granted the unalienable rights I was

born with. Most of the time its the small things, like being able to wear what I want or

having unrestricted Internet. Unlike other people, my navy blue passport with the

American seal is like an all access VIP pass to the whole world.

Every American has a chance, no matter how small; a sliver of hope. I am able to

say what I want, whenever I want. I am so lucky to have many opportunities at my

fingertips. Most Iranians only dream of this kind of freedom, and if only they were given

a chance, they too are capable of greatness. The appeal of America is having the ability to

pursue your dreams and having the resources to explore your aspirations.

My life in America is definitely not picture perfect, and often, outsiders have

many misconceptions. My American experience is riddled with trying to hold on to my

Iranian heritage, while trying to survive in Americas competitive society. Being

American entails a multitude of things. America is filled with racism, prejudice, and hate.
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Yet, this is the environment I was raised in, and witnessing all these negative things has

built my character and knowledge of the real world. The funny thing is, is that when I

was in Iran I was known for something that Im not usually known for -- being the

American girl. It was only when I took a step back from my life in America, did I notice

that all along I was American. Only from a distance could I see the bigger picture of my

life. In America, I have to explain my culture and my heritage, but when I am in my

motherland, I also have to explain my culture and my heritage. Somewhere along the

line, the two have crossed paths. I believe its important to note that I wanted to go to

Iran. I was the person who wrote letters to the Iranian consulate in order for my family to

get Iranian passports. I was searching for a connection bigger than me. I so badly wanted

to go on this trip so I could see my homeland, my people. Im glad I went on that trip

because I fell in love with Iran and I also realized I was much more American than I

initially thought. When I stepped off the plane at LAX, I had a foreign feeling -- I was

home.