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Shirin Ebadi
It was a cold day in Turkey; autumn had started weeks ago. My dad turned the radio on. I was eating my breakfast, Ekmek, a famous Turkish bread, and butter, praying he would turned the radio off. It was a talk show and I did not want to start my day with endless political arguments. The speaker was excited, happy, and congratulated others. For a second I couldn’t believe what I heard. I didn’t even know her nominee. The speaker repeated over again the quote from Norway’s governor speaker that Norway's Nobel Committee handed a platform to a courageous Iranian voice; Shirin Ebadi.
I wanted to be back in Tehran among my friends, the women who put all their passions for other women, and happy cry with them. In that moment, I hated myself because escape and didn’t continue fighting. I hated myself. She did it. Why couldn’t I be strong and stay?
I could not stop my tears. Mom and Dad stared at me quizzically. I got one of my beloved poet’s, Forough Farokhzad, book, put on my jacket and left the house. I had two opposite feeling in me. On the one side, I was so happy, not just because of the Nobel Prize, but because finally somebody was paying attentions to other problems not only political issues in Iran. I was happy for Ms. Ebadi and this respectful recognition. I was happy as a woman, as an Iranian Woman. On the other hand, I felt guilty, so guilty as I left the country and did not keep on fights there. I was sad, as I had preferred my family and education more than being in the scene.
Years after that cold morning in October 2003 in Turkey and my hours of walking and crying, I still remember my thoughts. I remember how I solaced myself; “she did it, you can do it. Not for the Nobel Prize, but you can make your country a better place to live for your women.” Still after all these years I daily remind my self of those thoughts.