Has your Iranian-American upbringing ever put you in a unique situation that made you aware of your dual identity?

Third place:

Stupid Question
By Alireza Nikroo


Simple. I was brought-up in Orange County, or as I would like to call it, “Persian-Ville.” You would think that the people here would at least know a little bit about Iran. You know, how Iran is developed, how the night-life doesn't compare to that of other metropolitan cities, or how the “hejab” is now a fashion-term. If I spend time to learn your culture, and how Shakespeare was so important, the least that you can do is learn something about Mosleh al-Din Saadi Shirazi. I know. His name is a little hard to drop once-in-a-while at a party, but you can always call him “Mos.”

I was truly aware of my dual identity on one chilly February morning. As undramatically and simply as I can put it, the Asian kid sitting in front of me just turned around when the class was awkwardly silent, and asked if I ride camels to get from place to place in Iran. It actually took me a little time to process the question. I might have blanked out, really. I thought about it, said yes as seriously as I could, and asked if he rode elephants to school in China. I mean, a stupid question deserves a stupid answer, and I thought I should return the favor with a stupid question of my own.

How could this kid not know that Iran is not a desert? Don't they teach anyone anything around here? The teacher tried to yell at me to be quiet and concentrate on my busy-work. He couldn't say my name properly and sounded like he threw-up a little in his throat. It made me giggle. Not because I, a sixteen year old boy, apparently had a name that was harder to pronounce than Hawaii's state fish, the humuhumunukunukuapuaa--but because it was an Honor's Algebra II class, and my teacher thought that it was vital for our intelligence as students to concentrate on our cross-word puzzles. Seriously. In Iran, we would have probably been trying to cure cancer instead of wasting time trying to guess the 22-character word that completes the sentence.

At the sound of my snicker, the teacher demanded to know what was going on. So I did what any proud person would do: I told on the Asian kid. I told my teacher exactly what kind of shallow question was asked of me, and also told him my reply to it. From this, there were two things I never understood. One was why I was not given full credit on the assignment. Two, why the Asian kid was shocked. Let's discuss the latter. My classmate could not believe the fact that I told teacher what had happened. This was coming from the kid who had told on me the previous week because I asked him how to use the chop-sticks properly to eat a bag of “Flaming-Hot Cheetos.” I saw that two of my friends were enjoying a bag in this fashion, without getting their fingers all red and tainted, so I wanted to be hassle-free too. The plan back-fired and they claimed that I was being racist. It was kind of embarrassing because we looked like two little school girls, arguing about who told on who.

Back on topic, I did not get full credit on the assignment because I argued with the teacher and I won. After I informed him of the Asian kid's lack of intelligence, he asked me why I cared. So I asked, “Why shouldn't I care?” That's as far as our argument went because he started stuttering and the next thing I remember was that he took my cross-word puzzle and put a giant “-10” at the top. Wow! If that wasn't the dumbest thing I had ever seen, then I'm a monkey's uncle. The sheet was only worth five points anyway. Real smooth, right? Although it wasn't official, I won. I laughed so hard, I think the desks were shaking. When he asked me why I was acting like such a child, I said, “My grandma can't climb a flight of stairs, let alone hop a camel to the market for some noon-barbari!” Of course, his concern was what noon barbari was.

As far as dual identity goes, I never really felt like an American or a Persian. I'm more of an Iranican, a combination of both. I was born here, so I can see the lack of understanding for other cultures, but I have been to Iran multiple times and can see how annoying it is when Americans think that Persian women walk the streets wrapped in black cloth. Actually, I have come to realize something. I don't think Persian women got the memo about having their hair fully covered, and why it was required to begin with. I really don't think anybody remembers anymore. The hejabs have turned out thinner and thinner and more and more transparent as the days go by. Some women just wrap a piece of cloth around their heads in a Bohemian fashion. And as far as transportation goes, Iran has some of the most unique and expensive cars in the world, imported from Dubai. There are cars that have been so fully equipped with technology and comforts that they make a Boeing 747 look like a child's-play toy. As for camels, they are a rare and exciting experience, even for the average Iranian, since they are only seen in zoos. Iran has more to offer than camel rides and deserts.