First Story
Summer 2023, Jackson, Wyoming
Mist shrouded snowcapped summits of the Tetons, adding to their enigmatic presence. Clouds thickened, mirroring those peaks that towered like sacred spires over Wyoming’s Jackson Hole. In that morning’s serenity, I stood silent, mesmerized by these mountains.
When I started my journey across America seven years earlier, I did not imagine my travels would coincide with such a time of rapid change. In 2016 we were beginning to examine what it meant to be an American, questioning the nation’s future direction fundamentally. By that summer of 2023 I was still on the road, trying to understand the United States. Our world had 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 an ancient landscape, the Tetons spoke a different language. Across the valley, I heard a wind ripple through meadows. In this breeze, a raven searched overhead. I watched it flutter its wings and land near a sagebrush. I saw myself in the raven as it hopped across the Wyoming turf. I’d left the security of a teaching career I had nurtured with love for fifteen years to embark on a journey across America. I put everything on the line for this project, selling my house and downsizing my belongings to fit in one room.
Some journeys are a choice and a calling, while others are beyond our control. As an immigrant who left my homeland after a revolution and war, I’d already experienced the hardships 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 painful leaving my loved ones behind in Iran. Acclimating to a new country which held an antagonistic political relationship with my land of family’s origin had been overwhelming. Somehow, I had to find a sense of belonging and identity while navigating between cultures. What I sought might be somewhere out on the road.
As the wind picked up, mist on the crests faded. Then, in its radiant majesty, the Grand Teton and its adjacent peaks emerged before my eyes. In midst of such solace, I found enough courage to rise above persistent doubts and obstacles to pursue my dream and my quest. In contrast to my immigration, my journey across America was my choice, and its calling filled with my agency. I wanted to see if perhaps all our journeys were connected.