I was cleaning my files and I came across a picture of me that made me write this blog. I am not sure how many of my coworkers would recognize me in this picture.
As you can see, I am all covered up and you can't see my hair.
You might ask why? Let me explain:
I am originally from Iran. There was an Islamic revolution in Iran in 1979, so shortly after that Islamic revolution, the Theocracy replaced the Monarchy in Iran and everybody needed to abide by the Islamic rules.
Before 1979, Iranian women were allowed to wear whatever they wanted to wear in public, after the Islamic revolution, all women are required to wear Hijab in public.
When I was in Iran, I had to wear a scarf. I was required to wear a long jacket to cover the shape of my body and I needed to wear pants or thick socks.
I didn't have a choice. This was the law of the land. There are even special police who enforces these Islamic laws.
Believe me, you don't want to mess with these special police.
For example, my poor aunt got snatched by that special police while window shopping with her husband and her children. She spent a couple of days in the notorious Evin Prison because her socks weren't thick enough. How crazy is that?
My friend spent a night in prison and received numerous lashes for mingling with boys at a birthday party.
So, whenever they show Iranian women with Hijab on the American television, I just want to inform the American public that most of these Iranian women that you see on your television screen, don't want to hide behind those scarves, but they don't have a choice.
So every time I travel to Iran to visit my family, I cover up from head to toe since I don't have a choice either.
Signing off until next Monday- Panteha