Body: Battle

It's a battlefield in there
Some dumb, some straight
It's me against them
Take on 50, 20, or 8

One at a time, I show off my strength
I lift, I bow, I bend
A glance in the mirror
It's my ego that I fend

The wounds are few and far between
As much as it pains me
That little red sore
How it makes me giddy

The battle is sometimes long
And othertimes short and sweet
But no matter what
Return to that place, will my feet

Mind: Education as a means of Emancipation

Jamilah is a Kindergartener beginning her studies this week at a private Catholic Elementary School in the USA that her family chose for her after visiting several schools she had to choose from. Her experience is in bold below.

Niknaz is a graduate of the Baha’i Institute of Higher Education — the open university established to educate Baha’i youth who have been banned from the state-run colleges in Iran. She was interviewed about what it was like to study at the BIHE – her responses are in italics below.

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She awoke from her bed, eager and excited to attend school. “The teacher has curly hair like me” she exclaimed.

Every day of studying at the BIHE involves risk factors and restrictions.

“You don’t need to come with me, I can wait for the bus alone.” She boarded the bus without a fear and waved bye.

We were always very careful to avoid traffic while going and coming out of the house, not to attract any attention.

On the bus she made friends with the boys, “I already made friends with those boys” she exclaimed. The bus took over an hour to get to school, but she will only ride the bus once a day in the morning.

Sometimes for attending two classes in one day, I had to go from one class in the north of Tehran to another class in the south.

The bus arrived safely to the clean school building – the same one she had visited several times before in preparation for the first day of school.

Our classes were held at homes and the university was underground.

Friendly teachers stood outside to show her where to line up and to guide her to her classroom.

I did not study in a normal classroom like everybody else in America.

“Tomorrow,” they said, “You will set your back-packs here, play in the playground, and when the bell rings, you will line up again here to go to class.”

Every day, I did not know if tomorrow my university will be there or not.

Each day would be the same morning routine, and each day Mrs B would be there to greet her when she gets off the bus.

Every day the fear existed that our professors would be arrested and our equipments confiscated.

When she arrives to her classroom each day, Mrs S will greet her upon entering and she will hang her backpack on the same hook, and sit at the same table she sat at the day before.

There was no permanent place for our classes and workshops.

And when it comes the time for her scheduled gym, library, computer, music, or Spanish class – there will be a separate fully equipped classroom for her to go to.

Many Bahai homes and their basements, big or small, and the professors’ offices and workplaces, were ready to instantly turn into classrooms and studios and labs.

She, as a student, will be happy, under any circumstance, whether there isn’t enough strawberries in her lunch box, whether the teacher mispronounces her name, whether the smart board only has four pens, it won’t matter her mind is ready to learn.

We as students were happy under any circumstance, whether there were enough chairs or we had to sit on the floor; whether the room was spacious or cramped, whether, there was an overhead projector or a whiteboard, would not matter and our minds were ready to learn.

For more information on the persecution of Baha’is in Iran, please visit http://iran.bahai.us