This photo was taken 100 days before my mom fled Iran for good
Zarrin Mohyeddin risked her life for her anti-revolution stance. And finally, there's a photo to prove it
Imagine you buy a book by a noted photojournalist. The book is a collection of photos from the Iranian Revolution of 1979. You're flipping through the pages and all of a sudden you see a photo of your mom.
I know it's crazy but that's exactly what happened to me... and my mom. She had no idea she was in David Burnett's book, 44 Days: Iran and the Remaking of the World.
The photo is a small, black and white 4 x 6 on page 126; taken on day 30 of David Burnett's 44 days in the country. It's at an anti-revolution protest inside a sports stadium on January 24, 1979.
The birth of an activist
Yes, my mom, Zarrin Mohyeddin, was an anti-revolutionary. A very risky thing to be during a revolution. People who were even suspected of being anti-revolutionary were often beat up and harassed. As the revolution went on, they were killed.
But, as my mom told me later, she didn't care. Not one bit.
"I just couldn't believe that people thought they were going to get freedom with this type of revolution, led by cleric," she said bitterly when I asked her about it just recently.
"I knew they would take away all our freedoms, and as a woman it was very important for me to say from the start that I am against this revolution."
- The Stolen Revolution: Iranian Women of 1979
- Anguish, hope and resistance: 40 years since the Iranian Revolution
- CBC Archives: The Iranian Revolution
My mom is 28 years old in the photo. I always knew she was a bit of a badass. She's wearing an olive-coloured trench coat and standing at attention in a row of women. She is half biting her lip. She looks angry and determined.
Protesting 'the coming disaster'
When I showed her the photo, she was completely floored. But the memories came flooding back hard and fast.
"We went to the stadium that day to be able to freely express ourselves and to say 'no' to the coming disaster," she said.
"Every day, those who were supporters of [Ayatollah] Khomeini and the Islamic Revolution were in the streets protesting. And this was our chance."
The revolution is the reason my family immigrated to Canada 40 years ago. In fact, we left exactly 100 days after that photo of my mom was taken.
What are the chances? How often does a person like me get to see their parent 40 years earlier, documented at one of the most life-changing moments of our family's whole trajectory?
A reunion four decades in the making
An idea came to me. I decided I wanted to bring my mom and the photographer, the person who captured this moment, together.
Both the journalist and the historian in me wanted to revel in the sheer craziness of having these two meet for the first time — 40 years later.
David Burnett's kind of a big deal in the world of photojournalism. As such, I was a bit apprehensive contacting him; thinking he wouldn't even remember that day, in the tomes of all the other historically momentous days he witnessed and documented.
Boy, was I wrong. He responded to my e-mail six minutes after I sent it. Turns out, he remembered the day very well.
"I've spent a lot of the last 10 or 15 years wondering how to get in touch or how to find somebody, if they're still around," Burnett told me.
Burnett chose my mom's face to tell the story of the revolution.
I asked Burnett why he focused on that row of women in particular and he told me, "There was just something in the passion of those faces... in big events like this you are always looking for something to make your point. The bigger the event, the more you are looking for one or a couple of faces that are going to tell that story."
Burnett chose my mom's face to tell the story of the revolution.
When I brought Burnett and my mom together, they instantly clicked. But the most profound moment of their chat may have been when she said to him, "David, your photo is my identity."
"Wow," he simply responded.
The photo is not just a moment captured in time. My mom's whole being is staked upon this moment of opposition.
For herself, and for her daughters
You see, the Iranian Revolution still continues for Zarrin Mohyeddin, now of Toronto, Canada, in many ways. It changed the entire course of her life... and mine. One minute she's a working mom and the next minute she's told she can't even come to work anymore unless she covers her hair and body.
There was no staying in Iran after that for her.
"Iran was no longer a place I wanted to be. I didn't recognize what was happening to it," she said.
And it wasn't just about her. It was about me, and my sister. "I had two young daughters, and I'd be damned if I was going to raise them in a country where they had no rights."
"No one tells me what to wear, and I'm not a child."
The compulsory veiling of women in Iran is still a contentious and controversial issue. Thousands of Iranian women are fined or arrested every year for traversing mandatory veiling laws in the country. Women's hair has become a matter of national security.
This photo of my mom is her big feminist moment.
I thought I knew everything there was to know about the Iranian Revolution; I wrote my masters thesis on it and collect books and newspapers about it. But this photo made me realize I didn't know much about what my mom was going through at the time, and why she made the choices she did — mainly to leave Iran and come to Canada.
An irrevocable separation
My mom has not been back to Iran in 40 years. I have visited and so has the rest of my family. I asked her if she had any desire to go back.
I refuse to wear a veil on my head and become what they force me to.- Zarrin Mohyeddin
"Of course it is my dream to go back to my country to see the beautiful mountains and walk down the street, but not with this government. Never with this government," she told me emphatically.
"I refuse to put a veil on my head and become what they force me to. Nothing is worth that. Nothing is worth my dignity as a woman."
It's a strange feeling to be proud of a parent. It's supposed to be the other way around. But looking at this photo, I understand why I have always had the strength and the room to stand up for what I believe in.
I got it from my mom.
To listen to the documentary, click on the Listen link at the top of the page.
Samira Mohyeddin is an award-winning journalist and associate producer at CBC Radio One's The Current.