The Neda Effect

I watched a documentary last night that moved me beyond words. It was based on the death of a young Iranian woman, Neda Sultan. During the open elections in Iran, she, along with many others, opposed the primary candidate Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. During a protest following the scandalous re-election of Ahmadinejad, she took to the streets in peaceful protest. She had no idea what she would find. What she found was a bullet to her heart that ended her life in the streets of Tehran and turned her own life as the personal testimony of freedom for millions of Iranians.

I watched her family talk about her life and persona. She was like any other woman I know today. Interested in fashion. Passionate about life and books. Only the freedoms I enjoy myself and often take for granted, she could never fully enjoy simply because of geography.

I am guilty of abusing my freedoms every second of every day. People value my opinion simply because I am human and intelligent. I can walk the streets baring my arms and legs without so much as a second look, though some might scoff given their chubby appearance. I can wear as little or as much makeup as I want. I can pick up any book I want and read it in public whether it's the Bible, Wuthering Heights, or Where's Waldo without fear of persecution. For this, I am sorry I do these things and never appreciate them. Neda wanted those things more than anything. She wanted the freedom to choose whether it be to wear bright red lipstick or voting for a leader she truly believed in. For her sake, I am ashamed I have abused my everyday choices. Because they are my choices each and everyday. They make me who I am and comprise my whole self worth.

For the family of this dear woman, who is now gone, I hope Neda's dream of freedom of choice for all people, not just men, is soon realized. May the hope and light her life brought to those around her be carried on by the Iranian people as they strive to bring this dream to life.