Thousands of protestors in Iran are facing a potential death penalty and I went for a run this morning.

As much as I try to force a healthy routine mirroring reels I see on Instagram, like succeeding to get up without my phone, going for a walk, and reading about 10 pages of a book (right now, it’s re-reading Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar) for that gold star of “accomplishment” for the day, I fail.

The truth? Most days, I get up and I reach for my phone. A (bad) habit. I know. We all know. I consume all the information out there in about a few scrolls and story visits. This morning, in between feeds that are convincing me to buy this green glo drink or how cardio is the devil I paused on a story that informed the world the terrifying reality that about 15,000 Iranian protestors under arrest are facing a potential DEATH sentence as a “hard lesson” for protesting the oppressive regime they currently live under.

I read it. I didn’t repost. I didn’t comment. I didn’t like. Instead, I washed down the rage I felt in my body and I decided to go for a run, instead.

I live in a neighborhood in Amman that’s nestled between embassies, 5-star hotels, limestone houses, sercurity guards in terribly small shacks and nurseries. It’s important to know the comfort in which I can write this from.

Of course, I will tell you about the discomfort of running past men who look at you whether in a sexual way or a mocking way. Either way, it’s uncomfortable and it’s objectifying. I was running past three men loading up a pick up truck at a construction site right next to my house. I see one guy nudge the other signaling to “LOOK AT THIS GIRL RUNNING.” He turns. Does a side eye. But I have no caffeine in me and I’m running low on cynicism and sass. So, instead of my usual “stare them in the eye until they’re uncomfortable” I turn back and I go another way.

And I think: “You’re lucky that that’s all you have to do.” I have to think this way considering the daunting reality that Iranians are currently going through. It’s an absurd unfair reality that the standards for which women have to accept for themselves are so low because the bar is so. low. I am told to be thankful because women’s rights are really progressing. “You can travel to Saudi now without permission.” “You can drive now.” “You can vote now.” “You don’t HAVE to wear the Hijab.”

It’s dangerous how even with small or big celebrations (however you’d like to perceive this) that women are made to be eternally grateful and are shamed when they’re not. This is a perverse way of constantly shaming women and depriving them from the power they have a right to hold.

Now, I’m venturing a little bit off of what brought me to write this. But this is also a reflection of what happens when something so specific and local happens resonates universally. That man on the street that harasses you, and that leader that has led a whole country to believe that women are objects are not that different. (Please don’t take everything literally).

The reality is is that I consumed information that told me that protestors in Iran who have been arrested after about 53 days of demonstrating and in return being violently attacked and killed by the state, may be sentenced to death. And then I went for a run.

I’m telling you this because I’m calling myself out on our collective performative activism. But I’m also going to be honest with you and tell you that I didn’t just want to share the fact as is. How do you sit with this information? How do we continue to sit with the realities of protestors being killed, children being illegally detained, journalists and activists being tortured and washed over to the “forced disappearances” statistics in reports, etc.

And while I know this information, I want to confess something to you.

You know what I discovered a second before I sat down to write this? I didn’t know how to pronounce or accurately recall the name of the woman, the fallen hero and fighter and victim, that opened up the mass wave of protests in Iran. I didn’t know because we don’t really read, do we? We let information sit with us for a few minutes and then we move on.

Her name is Mahsa Amini. Mahsa. Amini. In Kurdish, her name is Jin. It’s important that you now she was Kurdish. Why? Because Kurds have been systematically marginalized in Iran, and in countries like Turkey & Syria and their marginalization is fuel for creating a severely nationalist narrative in Iran. The chant “Woman, Life, Freedom” has its roots in Kurdish feminist movements. We have to know this.

I never said her name out loud. I read it in articles that I skimmed through as they sat on my desktop. These articles were the result of googling questions like, “What’s happening in Iran?” “What is the U.S. saying in response to Iran?” “What can we do?” I read her name on Instagram posts and stories. I shared her face. I shared her death. I “stood in solidarity” with the women and people of Iran. And all in silence.

I never said her name out loud. Until today. Have you?

There is something profound about the spoken word. About loud chants. About taking all your anger and your grief, bringing it out of the pit of your stomach and spitting it out into the world like a fireball that deserves to EXPLODE.

When people say that protests are useless it infuriates me because someone who says protests are useless has the privilege to choose what to do when their basic rights aren’t really under threat. Instead, judgement is spewed. You hear things like, “well, isn’t it better than dying?”

I understand that sentiment because I don’t want anyone to die. But this isn’t about dying. This is about being KILLED. So, really, really imagine this. Outside of an instagram post or story or meme that gives us a pat on the back for doing what’s right. People in Iran right now are being killed because they are so angry, so bottled up with grief and oppression that there is no other way other than putting your entire life on the line to demand what is and should be completely yours. And they’re being killed because a woman’s freedom threatens what has been deemed to be one of the most “powerful” and “authoritarian” regime in the world. Yes. A woman’s hair. Or an inaccurately or inadequately worn hijab is a THREAT to a bunch of men ruling a country. And you know that this isn’t about “hair.” Except well, that it is. But hair represents autonomy, basic rights and freedom for people.

And when I mean people, I mean women first. Because this is about women’s lack of autonomy. It’s about women’s lack of freedom. It’s about women’s place in the world as second-class citizens. It’s about the fact that the patriarchal world we live in continues to objectify women, use women for their routine power grabs, their toxic masculinity, their entitled position in the world and the awful belief that they are God’s gift to the world. And while it’s a universal war against women’s rights, the oppression of women in Iran is not only a reflection of a culture of patriarchy. It is legally enshrined.

Remember this very carefully: a 22-year old Iranian woman was arrested, beaten to death and killed because she did not adequately cover her hair. And her murder at the hands of the police sparked waves of protests and I ask the question: what is our role?

We know that there’s been an internet blackout and so using our voices our social media is VITAL. We know that standing in solidarity is the absolute basic requirement of humanity. We know that we can put pressure on our own leaders. We think internationally and on a global level but we also have to know our local context and do the work on the ground here. But let’s be very mindful of our performative activism. Because it’s not about our social capital. It’s about really devoting ourselves to a CAUSE, a PURPOSE, and a VALUE SYSTEM that stirs your every day life like a moral compass. Central to this fight, though, is men. We’ve seen men use their privilege to stand with women in Iran in protests. This is not a fight that women anywhere can win if men do not use their privilege to fight against the system. A woman’s liberation is also a man’s liberation. But that’s a story for another day.

So, please. Don’t just post on your social media. It’s not enough.

#women #life #freedom