Social justice
Reflecting on a unique gathering in San Diego
September 7, 2004
iranian.com
It is a rare event to find Iranians of diverse trades,
different religions, and groups who seem to have little in common
gather
for a conference and exchange ideas. The required skills for
such a peaceful gathering are uncharacteristic of us. Skills such
as
organization, cooperation and tolerance can only come from a
lifetime of practice. Although poeple who have a higher education
have attended
conventions related to their fields, a gathering among Iranians
of all walks of life is unique.
There are many groups of Iranian-Americans who organize meetings.
These meetings empower us to be in touch and to learn more about
a culture that continues to nourish our souls regardless of where
we live. But of the conferences that I have attended, the one I
participated in this past weekend stands out.
In its second year, this seminar was organized last year by the
Mehrgan Foundation of San Diego (www.Mehregan.us)
over the Labor Day weekend. A proud man from Azarbaijan, Mr. Firoozi
not only established this cultural and charitable organization,
but he had
the insight to recognize the Iranian's thirst for more knowledge
and, disregarding the painstaking efforts it would involve, with
some help from family and friends, he organized the much sought
after series of lectures to further educate us about the roots
of our culture.
A rather new venture, this meeting is organized with skill and
it is greeted with open arms. Some of our best scholars from around
the country are invited to speak and, thanks to Mr. Firoozi's jolly
personality and sincere passion, they all seem happy to oblige.
Last year's conference was titled "Freedom", and this
year the subject extended into "Social Justice". Some
may believe that if you leave three Iranians in a room with such
topics, it will end in a quarrel. What a pleasure it was to find
close to a thousand participants who not only shared peaceful discussions,
but developed a feeling of camaraderie. Indeed we have come a long
way from the days of "ME" and are well on our way to
form "US."
I must say, for a meager seventy-five dollars registration fee,
I did not expect much. But knowing I would have paid much more
just to listen to someone like Dr. Karimi Hakkak, I decided I would
learn enough to justify any shortcomings.
At a first glance, it seemed as if we were too concerned with
our appearances. I noticed how most of us forgot to bring a pad
and pencil, while in the women's lounge we produced bagfuls of
beauty supplies for a touch up. It didn't take long to realize
that beneath the vanity lay a deep desire for answers to important
questions and a thirst for knowledge, not to mention unity.
To a writer, a crowd is a learning institution in itself. After
the initial formalities, we gathered in the conference hall. Once
again I was reminded of my own lack of listening skills. I fidgeted
in my seat and took notes only of the points I could disagree with,
things I didn't like, or any odd criticism I could come up with.
But soon what I was hearing glued me to my seat. I forgot the pen
and gave my undivided attention to the world of knowledge standing
before me.
That modest registration fee, not only brought the best lecturers
to the podium, it also gave us a chance to enjoy live performances
by local musicians and, on the last night, an entertaining play
by Mr. Kardan. We danced the night away to the music of a good
DJ and forgot about diets in exchange for complementary snacks
during the breaks. We reluctantly paid a dollar for coffee or tea,
but many of us guarded that cup to use for refills for the rest
of our lives!
Mr. Firoozi, whose people's skills and unique sense of humor
make him an ideal Master of Ceremony, asked people, time and again,
to fill the survey forms and let him know of any changes they'd
like to see made for the next year. Not having any suggestions
of my own, I decided to ask around.
The greatest complaint in my informal poll seemed to be that
while we had heard much about justice, we had done nothing to solve
the existing social problems. It seems as if when we Iranians hear "Justice",
we remember all the injustice done to us at home and throughout
history. In particular, we tend to associate it with some of the
contemporary issues.
By nature, we are a melancholic people who
enjoy sympathy, like children in need of reassurance, or the wounded
in search of a healer. To those of us who had not bothered to read
the smaller print on the pamphlets, the title, "Social Justice" had
promised talks of injustice. Furthermore, it may have created the
hope to provide the means for a resolution. "A meeting is
supposed to solve the problem, not just discuss it," a man
said.
I couldn't help wondering if he had ignored the fact that these
discussions and the awareness that such conferences bring about
may in turn increase the chances of a resolve. Wouldn't such awareness
shed light to the dark roads we have traveled through for centuries?
However, no matter what people complained about, the praises I
heard outweighed them by a large margin.
By the second day, I began to realize that this conference dealt
more with the history and analogy of social justice rather than
what it means to us as a nation. Once this became clear, I settled
back into my chair and listened for more.
Hearing scholars, such as Dr. Ahmad Karimi Hakkak and Dr. Abbas
Milani, is not unlike looking at a monument. You wonder how much
time and hard work -- not to mention genius -- has gone into what
stands before you. My second grade teacher would not have believed
it, but the words of Dr. Farzaneh Milani kept me in my seat for
well over an hour! It is impossible to mention all the great speakers
in a short article, but let me just say that for four consecutive
days, there were no lectures I would have wanted to miss.
 If the pamphlet's explanation was too obscure, or the print too
small, one might think they should have told us precisely what
kind of discussions to expect. Then again, who would have listened?
Did they not tell us time and again to be prompt, or to "PLEASE
turn off your cell phones?" Did it work? In fact, I heard
more new tunes during this conference than I had imagined possible
for such a small gadget. And, some people enjoyed the tune enough
to let it go on.
I reflect on the past few days and realize what a great experience
it has been. The Firoozi family of San Diego and the numerous volunteers
who turned this dream into a reality are not your average Iranians.
Only two years into these lecture series, they have provided San
Diego with one of the best Iranian-American events. One that expands
our knowledge of history, literature, philosophy and culture. And,
the only one that gathers a thousand of us under one roof and sets
a great example of teamwork.
No doubt these conferences will grow bigger and better with each
passing year. With the help of those who are willing to share their
knowledge, we shall be better informed as a society and gather
the strength we need to pass our rich heritage to the next generation.
Such a large gathering welcomes new ideas for its growth. Constructive
criticism is one way to achieve that, but participation is even
more effective. Such a great event may have been the idea of one
person, but it would not have happened without the many others
who each brought their time, energy and talent to the table. We
can only help by being there. As for those who never made it past
the endless tea and delicious pastries, there's always the food
committee!
 The best lesson I walked away with was the realization of how
little I know and how much there is to learn. That alone is enough
reason to return next year.
Author
Zohreh Khazai Ghahremani is a freelance
writer,
poet and artist. She lives in San Diego, California.
.................... Peef
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