A Singular Being
Written by Alecs Kakon
Photos by Jen Fellegi
One thing I’ve recently taken notice of is the remarkable fluidity of culture. What constitutes culture? Is it a set of beliefs, traditions and ideals that turn a group of people into a culture? Is it the environment, the prescription of rules, a subscription to popular artifacts that distinguish one group from another? Once a “culture” has been demarcated, does that mean that the people within that group feel a greater sense of belonging, part of something bigger than them? Or, does it just further funnel people through a sieve of exclusivity, delineated by alienation from those not in their shared group? Segregated into an us and them society, culture simultaneously connects people who share commonalities, as well as establishes a distance between and within those same silos. Whether it’s race, gender, ethnicity, nationality, religion, or other, culture can, and in my opinion, does, devise an us versus them mentality. There is so much theory that goes into this way of thinking and centuries of Marxism, Adorno, Gramsci, Arendt that can sway these arguments to both sides of the pendulum, but suffice to say that culture is underscored by the individual’s sense of integration into a group with a sneaking undertone of detachment and isolation both within that same group and from others who do not belong. Sitting with Sahar, we touched on evolution versus stagnation, what it means to be a citizen of the world, and what freedom signifies in its limitless possibilities to change the cultural script.
Sahar is a first-generation Canadian to parents who fled Iran in the 70s. Raised amongst many friends and surrounded by family, Sahar was part of a strong Baha’i community, which gave her a solid foundational understanding of what her place is in the world. “For so many who leave Iran, it’s hard to know where to fit in, especially for those who never really ‘move out’ of Iran. They leave, but they stagnate in the culture from the time when they moved and never really evolve in their mentality. Even those who remain in Iran have grown and shifted, but it’s somewhat of a phenomenon to see how those who physically leave mentally remain,” Sahar explains. In a family of progressive thinkers, Sahar spent most of her childhood and adolescence moving around, propelled by her parents’ sense of community to help other Baha’i worldwide. Living on so many different continents and in so many different countries, Sahar’s sense of place could have been called into question, however for her, leaning on the learnings of her faith, she led with the belief that “Although we moved around a lot, I always felt at home anywhere I went. In Baha’i faith, the world is one country. There is no them and me. So, I guess I am unique in that I never felt I didn’t belong or didn’t have a home, because anywhere I was, that was my home.” Crossing geographical borders didn’t create boundaries for Sahar, instead, what it showed her was that she was comfortable everywhere, and the more places she visited, the more chance she had to grow, learn and expand on her self-awareness. “I left to Israel after my Master’s in Public Health. I volunteered at the Baha’i World Centre – it was such a unique experience. Being surrounded by people from all over the world, it was incredible to see how everyone came to gather and work together,” Sahar describes. “It cemented the feeling for me that home is anywhere I am.”
Taking notice of her nuanced sense of Persian/Eastern Canadian culture, she observed how other cultures and experiences living around the world had trickled into her identity and way of knowing herself. Sahar took notice of how her upbringing and education are so much informed by a closeness to various cultures, it further fostered this understanding that we are all one. “I feel a freedom in being all of these cultures, because in today’s society, it’s increasingly normal to have a multi-cultural identity. It’s so easy to create a bubble anywhere about anything, but that will potentially only further root you in divisive attitudes that may shrink your world. I feel free, because I do not have one prescriptive way to be, I am everything I’ve touched and that has touched me,” Sahar explains. Being brought up with an open mind and an expansive view of the world, Sahar could’ve held on tightly to what she knew in order to understand herself and her place in the world, but that would’ve closed her off from the bountiful opportunities and experiences she had to become a human of the world.
Sahar’s perspective of the world is unique in that she also had an insider/outsider experience. “I’m paler than most of my family, and so my experience is more ‘white’ even though I never really identified with being white. I know people saw me as that. I’ve witnessed my cousins be on the receiving end of racism and people thinking they could say things to me about them, because I was ‘white.’ I remember this one time at work, my co-worker went on a rant about how immigrants were stealing all of ‘our’ jobs. He didn’t know I was from a family of immigrants. He just kept going on and on and I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was an intelligent guy working on his PhD and this is the way he thought. This is what he believed. I kept quiet, but at one point I said, ‘well if you don’t like ‘them’ then you must not like me. You’re one of us,’ he replied.” Sahar states. “My parents exposed me to the world, but that world is entrenched in racism and sexism. So even though they did their part opening my mind, these horrible isms are ingrained in society. You can’t escape it.”
Appalled by this notion that we, as a society, are inculcated with hate—with this indoctrination of us versus them—Sahar parlayed her feeling of freedom into an active conviction to improve society. “Another aspect of my freedom is that I feel I have the power to change the ways of the world. I’ve been exposed to so much and I am so intimately a part of so many cultures. I know that I’m just one person, but that’s all it takes.” Sahar’s humanistic duty to participate in the world she lives in shelves her individuality and sense of place in exchange for a community and a place for all. Sahar lobbies for change, no matter how small, because she knows that even one person can threaten the power structures that buoy all of the isms of the world. “The level of activism has skyrocketed in the past couple years, and maybe it’s a millennial thing, but there is this strong message of self-empowerment and I love that I’m a part of it. The problem with the state of the world is systemic and I think the change will have to come from the bottom up.”
Margaret Mead poignantly declared “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” After speaking with Sahar, a part of my hybrid identity was stirred. I’ve always had a push/pull relationship with culture (not that pop culture/artifacts kind of culture, but the beliefs and systems set in place that show difference between groups). Connecting with people on the sole basis that we are all human, culture has always taken a backseat for me. I love traditions, I’m a strong proponent for art and language, but only in a way that brings us together, never in a way that divides. Feeling a propulsion to be a part of the world I am immersed in, I’ve always felt at home in the most unlikely of places and, ironically, out of place in the coziest of homes. The clash created a tension I could never put my finger on, but post-Sahar coffee talks, I understand the greater conversation I’ve been subconsciously grappling with: in this ecosystem we are a part of, we are all us and we are all them, that is society’s most enigmatic paradigm.
