First Story
Summer 2023, Jackson, Wyoming
Mist shrouded snowcapped summits of the Tetons, adding to their enigmatic presence. Gray clouds thickening above their jagged peaks mirrored their cresting curves towering like sacred spires over Wyoming’s Jackson Hole. In the summer morning’s serenity, I stood silent, mesmerized by these mountains.
When I started my journey across America in 2016, I did not imagine my travels would coincide with such a time of rapid change—when what it meant to be an American and the nation’s future direction would all be fundamentally questioned. Seven years later, I was still on the road, trying to understand the United States amidst growing global competition and technological advances. Our world changed after the coronavirus pandemic. Countries grappled with risks from new viruses, conflicts, climate change, and how AI could alter the fate of humanity.
But grounded in such an ancient and revered landscape, nature spoke a different language. Across the valley, I heard a western wind ripple through the meadows of silver sagebrush. This summer breeze carried a fragrance of woods' rose blooming. In such solace, I found enough courage to rise above persistent doubts and obstacles to pursue my dream.
In the wind’s stream, a raven searched. I watched it flutter its wings, glide in the breeze, and land by a sagebrush. I saw myself in the raven as it hopped across the vast landscape, leaving the security of a teaching career I had nurtured with love for fifteen years to embark on a solo journey across America. I put everything on the line for this project. I sold my house and car and downsized all my belongings to one room.
Some journeys are a choice, a calling, while others are beyond our control. As an immigrant who left my homeland after a revolution and war, I experienced the hardships and pain of being displaced. When I left Iran in 1983 at age eleven, I had no agency in that decision. While I’m now grateful for the opportunity of coming to the United States with my parents and sister, and the privilege of becoming an American, it all came at a personal cost and with many sacrifices. It was hard leaving loved ones behind in Iran. Acclimating to a new country which held an antagonistic political relationship with my land of origin felt overwhelming. Somehow, I had to find a sense of belonging and identity while navigating between cultures.
As the wind picked up, the mist on the mountaintops faded. Then, in its radiant majesty, Grand Teton and its adjacent peaks emerged before my eyes. In contrast to my immigration, my journey across America was my choice and calling. But perhaps all our journeys are connected, and the roads we travel or create are a part of our destiny.