Remember – Episode Seven: Girls Against the Hijab, Oppression, and Discrimination; The Narrative of Student Girls' Protests

I don't know how to say it? But I am Nika and Sarina! All the people who have been killed; I am them. "I was only six months older than Nika Shakeri." "When do we get killed? When will it be our turn for the Islamic Republic to kill us too?" "This government fears students in school uniforms. I was shot as a student and two pellets entered my hand." "School was really not a second home for us; it was a prison." "The hijab is really a tool of torture for me." "I don't think this is just my opinion. All my classmates and schoolmates who stood up and shouted one by one, we are full of pain, sorrow, and resentment towards these schools that are all products of this government... God, what can I say?" "Since then, after seeing these news and giving those slogans, I have grown. I no longer choke on questions like why are your nails long and why is your hair like this and why is your coat short... I no longer choke on these phrases, and how many girls like me have turned their choked feelings into screams and demands? How many girls like me?" These words are the voices of the girls of Iran; high school girls who shouted "Women, Life, Freedom" during the protests last year in classrooms, hallways, schoolyards, and streets. This is the voice of the girls of Iran that you will hear in the seventh episode of the multimedia series "Remember." For months, I have been talking with the schoolgirls of my homeland. From afar, I have listened to their words for hours and hours. The level of familiarity with civil rights, civil and gender consciousness, and sensitivity to gender oppression and discrimination in the words of schoolgirls is blossoming, evoking nothing but excitement and joy. Excitement and joy and a bit of envy. Envy that the protesting teenage girls against discrimination and oppression could have lived freer and fuller lives. A life where they did not have to fight for their basic rights every day. In this episode of "Remember," I invite you to listen to the voices of the girls of Iran and remember them. The schoolgirls who shouted "Women, Life, Freedom" during last year's protests, took off their compulsory hijabs, and waved them in protest. They tore down pictures of Khamenei and Khomeini from the front pages of textbooks and chanted "Death to the Dictator." The schoolgirls who want to create a different Iran and a different future. In this program, to ensure the safety of the interviewees, I will not reveal any real names and have altered their voices. Let's hear from the first schoolgirl: "The killing of these children... Nika Shakeri is from my hometown. I really don’t know what to say. How do I explain the anger, sorrow, and grief that weighs on my chest? I cry every day and night. What prevents this situation from making me the next victim? This is the biggest thing that torments me. What guarantee is there that I won’t be the next one tortured, my face crushed by a baton, and killed? Was Nika a special person? Did she engage in political activities? Or were the other students who were killed political people? Was Mahsa Amini a political person who was killed? No! Their crime was simply being women. Mahsa Amini was killed because of her hijab, and Nika was killed because she protested. This is the fate awaiting all of us. This paints a dark future for me. I have no hope for the future and I don’t think I will live long. I don’t think I will live for many years, get married, and have children. I only think about when it will be my turn." This is the voice of Azadeh, an 11th-grade student from a small town. She speaks of the anger and sorrow that she and her peers feel from the killings of Nika Shakeri and Sarina Ismailzadeh and others their age: "The people who were killed were neither from a specific faction nor were they special people. They had ordinary lives; like us, like me, like you, they woke up every morning, loved someone... I don’t know how to say it but I am Nika and Sarina! I am all the people who have been killed. Is killing just about taking someone's life? When you instill a constant fear in someone that they could be killed at any moment, can that life even be called life? I am sure all my friends feel the same way. We all have a constant fear that we might... when will we be killed? When will it be our turn for the Islamic Republic to kill us too?" You talked about Nika and Sarina. What do you think they were protesting against? If you were to summarize all their protests into one issue, what would it be? Azadeh: A constant humiliation. A crushing of dignity and personality that can never be compensated for and cannot be fixed. These beatings that we have experienced in life can never be fixed. I don’t think it can be fixed with any therapy or medication. Can you give examples of this humiliation for those who will hear your voice? Azadeh: In line! Our principal and vice-principal check our nails in the mornings, and if we have nail polish, they take us to the office and give us cotton and acetone to remove the polish before we enter the class to study. Isn’t this the biggest humiliation and psychological torture and insult to the intelligence of a human being that you don’t even know what color your nails should be? I know and I have the right to remove your nail polish, and you have no right over your own body to make a decision. And this grows larger when I enter society. My sister is a doctor, and I know that doctors in Iran are not allowed to sell contraceptives. This means decision-making over women's bodies on a large scale. It means you have no right to not get pregnant! You must be a baby-making machine, and this insult and humiliation follow you from the day you enter school as a six-year-old elementary student until the time you live in Iran as a woman." And Maryam, another student from Iran: "Look! I was only six months older than Nika Shakeri. When I think about living in a society where at any moment they could deliver my crushed face to my family, naturally, in addition to being afraid, I get angry at why? What have I done? What has she done? What have we done to deserve this? That’s why there is currently a nervous atmosphere among my peers. You cannot talk to a teenager of this age without seeing these states in them. Many students have even become aggressive in schools, and all of this has very bad psychological aspects and can lead to academic decline and a thousand other things that everyone knows better than we do." Nika Shakeri and Sarina Ismailzadeh were two prominent faces among the student protesters who were killed by the agents of the Islamic Republic during the protests of 1401. The state-sanctioned killings of these protesting teenage girls still wounds the psyche and emotions of their peers and classmates. Maryam is a girl who has actively participated in protests. This student was also targeted by the suppressive forces during street clashes and was shot with pellets. She sends me a photo of her pellet-injured hand and recalls: "My school is located in the Qolhak area of Tehran. We heard gunfire around noon. The sounds of protests and slogans, and when we left school... the alleyways are very narrow, and my school is located in one of these alleys. The streets were full of special forces. The school also emphasized that we should pull our hijabs forward and maintain our hijab and go carefully. The school forces were also hurried. As I was heading towards the Shariati Metro, I reached the pharmacy college and saw officers firing warning shots. Upon entering the Qolhak intersection, I saw that the shots were becoming direct and targeting people. I was surprised. I had previously attended protests, but in that area, there are many schools from elementary to high school, three or four of each on that street... You think we live in a government that fears students in school uniforms. I was shot as a student, and two pellets entered my hand. Let alone how difficult it was for me to find a reliable nurse to remove them from my hand. We live in a government that even shoots at students in school uniforms. Naturally, this government is more afraid of all of us. A government that fears a student in a school uniform! A student who cannot harm an officer and has no means to set anything on fire, and her only weapon is her slogan and her voice, and someone who directly shoots at her is more afraid than all of us! So why is this student so angry? Let’s talk about you; what is it in your school, family, and community that bothers you so much that you take to the streets as a teenager to protest? Maryam: What bothers me is that I have been looked at as a second-class gender in these eighteen years I have lived in Iran. For instance, just recently it was announced that the blood money for women will now be the same as for men and does not have to be half, which, as far as I have heard, is not implemented, but this was presented as a gift. This means my basic right as a human being and a woman is taken from me. You know the reason for these protests. Unfortunately, many think that a student’s concern is just the hijab on her head, whereas our concerns are the things that are told to us in our textbooks. For example, we have a book in the twelfth grade titled Family Management, which is fundamentally about how you must marry quickly! Your rights are half of your husband’s, and you must be a housewife, and if you are an employee, you are not a good woman! Think about when students read these books! When in society, the morality police arrest you for four strands of hair! And you have to give a commitment, and all of these have psychological impacts. These are not things that someone tells me to go do. They accumulate and accumulate, and when a crime like the murder of Mahsa Amini occurs, they explode. After all, the wound inflicted on women will eventually surface. You said that my concern as a student is not just the hijab that was forced on me. Well, you talked about the content filled with gender stereotypes in textbooks. Are there other things you want to say about the experience of being a second-class citizen in school? Something that has created that accumulation of anger in a student girl like you? Maryam: Well, I’ll give an example from myself. I was in seventh grade. I really love music. I have been working on music since childhood. During recess, I usually bring a book with me and read. I was about thirteen and reading a music book. Our religious teacher came, took this book from me, and took me to the office. You think that this woman, in front of the principal, vice-principal, and the educational staff present there, started saying that this is a crime! And she casually called me a whore, and a thirteen-year-old child really has no understanding of this word! She might have heard it, but she doesn’t know its exact meaning. The first question that arose for me that year, which has remained in my mind for the past five years, was what was my sin? After all, through social media and relatives in other countries, one sees that in European and American countries, there are hours in school where music is taught! If this was such a great sin that you are willing to call a thirteen-year-old girl by that term, why isn’t it like that there? Are only Iranians supposed to go to heaven? You mentioned Europe and America and other countries. As a teenage girl, do you compare your life and educational conditions with your peers in other countries? And what feeling does this comparison give you? Maryam: A while ago, I read in the news that even Saudi Arabia has allowed hours for music in schools. I mean, the birthplace of Islam has given such permission. When one makes these comparisons, they get angry. The first time I compared myself with a European student was because of this. I wanted to go to a music conservatory in Tehran two years later. You think that in a country with eighty million people, we only have one credible music conservatory. We have one in Isfahan, but they teach subjects other than music there. Think about the kind of society we live in. Well, these comparisons put a lot of pressure on you. For all five years since that incident, I have asked myself why! Why should I be born in such a country with this passion? I don’t remember that woman’s last name now, and I remember very little about her face, but her words have remained in my mind for five years, making me want to compare myself with a student even in a neighboring country and ask what is the difference between me and her? I am a woman, and she is also a woman. I am a human, and she is also a human! Anita is also one of the student protesters. Anita describes how she and her classmates have been dissatisfied with everything since the years before 1401, and they have been fed up with the school and its oppressive atmosphere: "I am a secondary school student, and last year I completed the tenth grade at a school in Sari. The building of the school I studied in was next to the building of the enforcement of morality and the headquarters of the promotion of virtue. The staff there harassed us and filmed us without permission.