Iranian On The Outside

Do you know what it’s like to have people look at you, and decide things about you?

Do you know how it feels to be someone different on the inside? 

Do you know the frustrated, sweaty feeling when 

someone makes an assumption about you based on how you look?

I am Iranian. Not on the outside. On the outside, I look American. To me, American means

a person with heritage in America. Even if you live there, you aren’t necessarily American.

Inside, I carry the stories of my country, and the stories of my people.

On the inside, all of the old traditions are part of me.

Have you ever felt the pang of sadness mixed with anger when people stare at you

because you look different than them?

Do you know how it is when people don’t want to be open-minded, and when they won’t accept 

you as an equal? How sometimes, no matter how hard you try, they just never seem

to acknowledge you?

To me, being Iranian on the inside means I am proud of where I come from. 

Iranian on the inside is like ice cream with sprinkles on top.

And when you take a big lick, all of the flavors flood your mouth.

On the outside, I have light skin, and hazel eyes. Short chestnut hair barely reaches 

the bottom of my neck. On the outside, I am considered “an American person” by some.

But on the inside, the Iranian part of me sparkles as bright as a rainbow,

an ever-lasting joy that paints my years forever.