Читать книгу I Am Like You! - Ali PhD Kian - Страница 9

In Iran, there was no junior high school or middle school. After finishing elementary school, students are sent directly to high school for a six-year period. In order to move onto high school, students are required to follow a rigorous procedure. Final exams are distributed to everyone at the same time all over the country in order to prevent cheating of any kind. There is an exam for every subject and a specific time frame for each exam. On the day of your exams, you must arrive at an exact time with your ID or you will not be permitted in the designated exam area. Because of my condition, I had to be carried in and out of the exams and placed in my seat.

My six-grade diploma

Without question one of the proudest days of my childhood was the day I took my art exam. I had no particular reason to believe I had any facility for art. I loved art, but had never really attempted anything of an artistic endeavor. For the art exam, each student was free of any kinds of pencils or colors to draw with. I chose a charcoal pencil to draw with, and we were told to create whatever we wished. I found myself staring out a window for the longest time at a set of gorgeous Aspen trees. Suddenly, I felt compelled to draw the trees. I began with the trunk of a tree and worked my way toward the top of the tree. I lost track of the time.

"Hey, guys! Look! Look!" The shout came from a girl sitting next to me. At first, I wasn't even sure what the girl was excited about. Then I realized the girl had been watching me draw and was amazed at what I had been able to create. The young girl couldn't imagine someone in my condition being able to create something so beautiful. At the time, I must admit...I surprised myself, but it was a great lesson for me. From that day forward, I was determined that I would not allow my physical disability to be an excuse. Of course, I would have challenges, but everyone has challenges. The day of my art exam was one of the happiest of my life.

One of my own drawings used charcoal pencil

Attending a regular high school with polio created a unique set of problems. And, remember, I attended school in a Third World country many years before anyone began thinking of making public facility accommodations for people with physical disabilities. There were and still are not too many buildings with wheelchair access or gentle ramps to glide up a sidewalk after crossing a street. For me, even going to the bathroom at school was a daunting task. I would often refrain from using the restroom all day because of the challenge. At the time, I was still only able to propel myself around on the ground using my arms to push myself about. If it was absolutely necessary for me to go to the rest room, the only restroom available was in the far corner of the schoolyard. In order to reach the bathroom I had to maneuver through a sea of children playing a variety of games. Another reason I would avoid the school restroom unless absolutely necessary was sanitation. Because of my condition, being so close to the ground, I was much more vulnerable to other infections and the restrooms were neither built for nor sanitized in a manner that made them safe for anyone with a serious disability.

While it's true that children can be cruel, I was fortunate to make a good many friends. Perhaps it was because I chose not to complain or feel sorry for myself. There were many days when I would invite classmates home with me after school. My mom would make my friends and I, hot tea, feta cheese, and bread for snack. After our treats, it was time to play inside the house. In Iran, soccer is practically like a religion. My friends recognized my limitations but went out of their way to include me in their games. I became the designated referee for all games and was actually pretty good at it.

I would forget that I was disabled and would participate in any kinds of normal physical activities. It was only when I was confronted on the street by some thoughtless adult or child that I felt less than human. Being forced to crawl along the ground on many occasions seemed to invite cruelty. It wasn't uncommon for me to hear myself referred to as some sort of animal. At times, I felt like an animal and when I had those feelings (however fleeting), I wished the earth would open her mouth and swallow me alive.

Family and friends have always been my lifeline. Oftentimes I would rebound from some depressing encounter with a stranger by throwing myself into some challenge with friends. I loved camping and hiking and would always insist on being included in any outdoor endeavor. One advantage of my condition is that I have never weighed more than 70 pounds, which meant I could easily hop on a friend’s back for a trek up a steep path or even scale a small mountain. And, it wasn't unusual for me to jump off a friend's back in the middle of a raging river and swim to the shore, with my friends’ help. It wasn't until later, when sitting by a campfire, that I realized how dangerous my adventure was for myself, and my friends.

I realize that it may seem, to many, that I have something against religion or faith. In fact, that is not the case. My beef is with organized religion or state religions (much like the one that rules Iran.) I am not arrogant enough to assume whether or not there is a God. However, I do not believe having a God or a religion is necessary to create or maintain a moral and just society. Indeed, I can think of many examples of religion being used to control a society or dictate to people how they must live their lives.

Another drawing of mine at the age of 25

In Iran, birth control is frowned upon...because of "religion". Subsequently, the country has grown from 20 million to more than 70 million in just less than 30 years. The result is that people are dying, children are malnourished, and education has disintegrated. And there is no place for someone like me in a theological society. I don't "fit in". I'm defective. God has punished me for some mystical reason. I am not granted the same rights and considerations of someone with the perfect body or with power and money.

The "punishments" for my unknown sins are many. I had to start to administrate insulin shots 2 times a day. I do not have enough fat around my stomach, so I am forced to give myself insulin shots close to my muscles, which associates with tremendous pain. In Iran, you must deposit money in the hospital BEFORE a patient can be admitted, while billions of dollars from oil revenue are spent for military to keep the government in power. In the society I was raised in, pity was my only reward. I had to learn to love myself for who I was in spite of the judgments passed down to me by the "righteous.”