It’s Not Easy Bein’ Green
Shaghayegh Hanson
Do you remember when Kermit the Frog sang “It’s Not Easy Bein’ Green” on The Muppet Show? It was humorous, but also deep, because it imparted a message about being different and feeling vulnerable to marginalization by others (at least that’s my interpretation). It comes to mind because I recently had cause to think, again, about how hard being Iranian can be. Speaking for myself, at least, I do feel vulnerable to misperceptions and half-cocked notions about my culture and country of birth. It makes me defensive, which I don’t like but can’t help. Here’s how it played out a couple of weeks ago:
I was at a dinner party. We had eaten a lovely meal and were sitting outdoors enjoying the summer evening. There were about eight of us conversing and laughing, discussing books, our families, our lives, etc., as you do when you’re in the middling age group. But then I heard someone say, “But you wouldn’t want to go to a place like Russia or Iran.” It was said in response to one of the guests explaining that she wanted to take on more adventurous travels and even visit places where Americans normally fear to tread.
Well, there was a time when I would let comments like that go. I mean, even many Iranians avoid going to Iran or warn against it. But, as I get older and this “pariah” state attitude towards Iran becomes more tiresome, I become less tolerant and more defensive. I found myself whipping my head around to face the speaker and saying—much more harshly than I intended or was justified—“No, that’s not true. You would want to go to Iran, you should want to go, even if you felt you couldn’t go. It’s a beautiful country with mountains and lush valleys, it’s the cradle of civilization with several World Heritage sites, including Persepolis, and the people are warm and welcoming.” I went on like that for a bit, mentioning that tourists do go there and have a great time. I even ventured to say any American would be much safer in Iran than a Black man would be buying a pack of cigarettes in Minneapolis or a child would be going to school in Small Town, USA.
The speaker was taken aback and looked slightly wounded, explaining that he had been speaking of the government, not the people or the place per se. I knew that . . . or did I? He believed that’s what he meant . . . but was it really? When you measure the value or likeability of a country by its current form of government, how can you be sure you’re not painting your view of its people, its land, and its culture with the same broad brush? I spoke out because it’s important to remind people to use a finer paintbrush and avoid coloring outside the lines, to encourage them to question what they may never have been prompted to question before.
Yes, Kermit’s greenness made him different—but, thankfully, he reminded himself (and us) of this:
But green’s the color of spring
And green can be cool and friendly like
And green can be big like a mountain
Or important like a river or tall like a tree
When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why
But, why wonder, why wonder?
I’m green and it’ll do fine
It’s beautiful and I think it’s what I want to be.
I may well have overreacted to a fellow dinner guest’s innocent comment, but man, sometimes it’s just hard being green and all you’re trying to say is green is cool, friendly, important, and beautiful, in case you didn’t know or were unsure.
