Homeless in a Million Dollar Home featuring a reminder from the late Senator John McCain
I left Iran in 1976, a few years before the Islamic revolution and social chaos. I came to the U.S. against the will of my father and mother. At 16, I was adamant to grow up fast, learn more, and win big.
Around 1929, my grandfather moved his family of nine from a smaller city in Iran to the capital. When asked why, he told my father that “in small waters, small fish will grow; whales live in big waters.” I used this same sentiment as my final and winning argument before my parents agreed to my immigration.
I wanted to be a whale and America was the limitless and plentiful ocean I wished to swim in.
Quickly, I became a believer in America and all that she stood for. I believed in my right to pursue happiness and the liberty and justice for all doctrine. And I thought that I would always remain innocent until proven guilty. America became my home. In my heart, I was no longer an immigrant.
I was an American and my arms opened to receive the tired, the poor and the huddled masses yearning to be free.
I studied and worked hard, and this country rewarded me with a comfortable and secure life. I built successful companies and gave back by mentoring, teaching and investing in the next generation of entrepreneurs. I paid my taxes and took my civic duties very seriously.
America rose up and slapped me in the face during the 2016 presidential election. The ground beneath my beliefs was shaken and the face of reality was fully exposed. About 50,000,000 people positioned themselves against immigrants — against me!
I suddenly felt homeless in my million-dollar home. I had become an outsider! My fellow Americans presumed I was guilty without proof.
Over the past four decades, I have attended thousands of meetings as an entrepreneur, management consultant, venture investor and public speaker. In all that time, were people not viewing me the same way I was viewing them? Did they not see me as equal? I began to doubt my longtime friends and business partners and I started to question what it really meant to be American.
I was lost. How did I lose my home? How did I become an outsider?
In 1979, I lost the home I was born in. Today, I am losing the home I chose. The home I felt obligated to nourish and delighted to help build. In 1979, I decided to remain silent, keep my distance and enjoy my comfort. Am I losing my home again? Am I staying silent again?
Where we stand today has nothing to do with Trump. It is not about Bush, Obama or Clinton. Where we stand is where we, the people, have collectively decided to stand. We have chosen to place our own interest ahead of others’. We have consciously or unconsciously categorized our perspectives and views as superior and just.
To be great begins with being honest. We have been intellectualizing our failures. We have allowed the facts of our realities and choices to be redefined and compromised for political gains by both the left and the right. Being great means having the courage to accept our failures. To be great, we must not look for someone to blame but trust each other and together explore the path forward.
John reminded us of what it means to be an American: to stand for those in need, embrace humility and put humanity and country above personal gain and politics.
So here is my advice, from one American to another: let’s not listen to those who are paid to talk. Let’s choose not to be manipulated and influenced by those who benefit by dividing us. Let’s stop believing in the so-called experts and politicians with agendas. Let’s not let the reality of our lives become the reality show that drives ratings. We don’t need experts to tell us we love our county. We don’t need experts to define how.
Let’s remain steadfast and faithful to each other. Let’s re-discover our greatness. Together.
