In July I got a letter in an airmail envelope with Islamic stamps and Farsi writing on it. I immediately recognized that it was from Iran, the country I fled with my mother nine years ago when I was 8. The sender was my father, Kourosh Ezzati. Even though I haven’t seen him in more than seven years, I’m still afraid of him.
I’ve always felt that if my father wanted to he could take me back to Iran. And since a girl belongs to her father like property there, he would have the right to marry me off to someone of his choice and get a dowry in exchange.
Many times he threatened my mother that he would kidnap me and take me back to Iran. This caused me to be very wary of all Iranians, because I know how persuasive my father can be and if he said the right words, he could get anyone to help him.
Since my mother and I felt any Iranian we met could have been a spy for my father, we avoided contact with other Iranians, even family friends. When we first came to this country and socialized with other Iranian families, adults would casually ask me questions about my mother and myself, and then convey the information back to my father. We soon learned to avoid other Iranians-especially Iranian men.
Then one day last summer, I heard two Iranian men on the train speaking Farsi, fluently and eloquently. I became very emotional and depressed. I realized how much of my Iranian culture and heritage I had given up because I was trying to protect myself from my father. I will probably never again dance the special Persian dances I once loved. Or attend festive parties like the ones I remember going to with my parents in Iran, where all generations celebrated together, guests were treated like royalty, and everyone shared huge plates of delicious meat stews and rice. For a moment, thinking back to these happy memories allowed me to forget the dark side of thoughts about my father and my country.
Women’s Rights Were Taken Away
Iran is now a place I fear and would never go back to voluntarily. It’s a very religious and old-fashioned country. Women are supposed to be passive and quiet, and they are actually considered to be the weaker sex, mentally and physically. When the Ayatollah Khomeini seized power in 1979, overthrowing the Shah of Iran, he wanted to lead the country with the laws of the Koran, the Islamic holy book.
Through his own personal translations of the Islamic laws, Khomeini took the rights of women away, forcing them again to wear black chaddores (a veil that covers the entire body), denying them educational opportunities (the majority of Iranians were illiterate, a large percent being women), and telling Iranian men that knowledge for a woman was dangerous because women are not capable of working and making decisions for themselves.
The radical change from the Shah, who was very modern in his ideas about women’s roles, to the repressive Ayatollah Khoemeini literally happened overnight. One morning my mother woke up and realized she was the property of my father, and that all her rights had been taken away. She also knew that any educational opportunities I would have had under the Shah were now nonexistent. We were like free birds suddenly trapped in a cage of religious oppression and darkness.
As the country became more oppressive, my mother’s life there became unbearable. My mother speaks five different languages, was a straight ‘A’ student in high school, and upon graduation at the age of 18, began teaching Air Force pilots how to speak, read, and write English. But she never went to college because her father felt she should be married and that college for a girl was a waste of money.
My Mother and I Flee
When my mother married my father, she loved him and looked forward to a happily-ever-after relationship despite warning signals, like the other girlfriends he flaunted. It wasn’t long after they were married that my father started to lie to my mother, and sleep around. When he was angry, he beat her.
My father’s approach to running his business was no better than his approach to marriage. Eventually, dishonest business dealings landed him in jail. Since my mother had helped out in his business, she knew the authorities were preparing to come after her, too. This hastened her decision to flee the country.
Here in the U.S., I’ve been raised to think of myself as an equal to men and to make decisions for myself. I fear going back to Iran because I would not be able to go to college, or have a career of my own, or even wear what clothing I like. I know that I could never live like the many Iranian women who take orders from their husbands and are financially and socially dependent. If a woman is not married in Iran, or if she is divorced, she is considered rotten, like spoiled milk. I could never survive in such an oppressive environment.
Afraid of Going Back
Young women in this country take for granted that they can go to college, dress how they please, and choose for themselves who they will marry. I, on the other hand, am always afraid that I will lose my opportunities to get an education and start my own career. I fear that I will end up married to a man like my father.
When I received my father’s letter, my feelings of fear mixed with distrust. Because of the person he is, I know that even a letter that says nice things may contain danger.
My mother and I left Iran after struggling for four years to get green cards. My father promised to join us in the United States once he took care of his business. (Even after everything he did to her, my mother was willing to give him another chance.) But after three years he told my mother he decided not to come and that he wanted us to return to Iran.
His reason was that he didn’t want to give up his $1 million business in Iran. He told us that the situation for women in Iran had improved. But he was lying-Iranian women still had no rights. It didn’t seem to bother him that in Iran I wouldn’t be able to go to college or have a career. He just didn’t want to give up his business. I felt abandoned because his money meant more to him than I did.
Can I Be Bought?
I wasn’t really surprised to get a letter from my father because occasionally he sends me something saying that he still thinks about me. He sometimes sends me gifts from Iran, telling me he cares for me, and that any unhappiness I feel is because of my mother. His gifts always feel like bribes to turn me against my mother. Instead, my trust in him lessens with every gift.
But there was something in this letter which I never expected. My father said that it was his duty as a father to pay for my college education-a bill my mother can’t pay alone.
Now I feel that I’m being bribed once again, but the stakes are higher. He’s willing to pay for my entire college education. This can be a chance of a lifetime. Since my grades are average, it’s not very likely that I can get a full scholarship or grant. And it would be a big luxury if I could graduate college without a loan to pay back afterwards. With the money my mother would save, she could afford to send me abroad to study in London or Paris, and give me extra spending money.
Yet, I feel like I’m being bought, and that if I accept the offer I would be letting my father off the hook-for the price of my college education, my father would want forgiveness and a second chance to be the father he never was.
I have to make my decision soon and it isn’t an easy one, not like winning Lotto, where someone hands me a big fat check with no strings attached. After all, why would he make this offer without expecting me to allow him into my life again? If he pays, he could expect me to play the role of dutiful daughter. And, if I accept, I’ll be committed to a relationship with him that I might not be ready for.