Don't Call Me Iranian: A Journey of Cultural and Linguistic Identity

My Iranian heritage has always been the background music of my life. It was present in the warm, home-cooked meals, the lively family gatherings, and the gentle Persian poetry my grandmother recited to me. However, the term "Iranian" always felt like a label that didn't quite fit.

Growing up in an American suburb, "Iranian" carried a weight that I couldn't shake off. It invoked images of a turbulent political landscape and a distant culture that I wasn't entirely familiar with.

As I grew older, I began to realize that my cultural identity was more nuanced than a single word could capture. I found solace in the term "Persian," which embraced the ancient civilization, rich history, and refined arts that made my heritage so special.

Navigating social expectations as a Persian-American was both challenging and rewarding. I faced pressure to conform to traditional gender roles and cultural norms, yet I also found a unique space where I could blend my Iranian and American identities seamlessly.

The Persian language became a lifeline for me, connecting me to my roots. While I was far from fluent, the melodic sounds and intricate script evoked a sense of nostalgia and belonging. It was a reminder that my cultural heritage was something to be cherished, not something to be erased.

In the end, my identity as a Persian-American is a unique blend of both cultures. It's a tapestry woven with the traditions and values of my ancestors, as well as the experiences and aspirations of my life in America.