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Writer's pictureKayla Isabel

Americanized: Rebel Without a Green Card by Sara Saedi

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At thirteen, bright-eyed, straight-A student Sara Saedi uncovered a terrible family secret: she was breaking the law simply by living in the United States. Only two years old when her parents fled Iran, she didn’t learn of her undocumented status until her older sister wanted to apply for an after-school job, but couldn’t because she didn’t have a Social Security number.

Fear of deportation kept Sara up at night, but it didn’t keep her from being a teenager. She desperately wanted a green card, along with clear skin, her own car, and a boyfriend.

Americanized follows Sara’s progress toward getting her green card, but that’s only a portion of her experiences as an Iranian-“American” teenager. From discovering that her parents secretly divorced to facilitate her mother’s green card application to learning how to tame her unibrow, Sara pivots gracefully from the terrifying prospect that she might be kicked out of the country at any time to the almost-as-terrifying possibility that she might be the only one of her friends without a date to the prom. This moving, often hilarious story is for anyone who has ever shared either fear.

*I received an eARC from netgalley in exchange for an honest review. So thank you netgalley, Knopf books and Sara Saedi for a copy. The book is expected to be released on February 6th, 2018*

Growing up, I went to a Jewish private school with a lot of Iranian Jews. My friends would refer to our school as the “Iranian Embassy of America.” Farsi could be heard in the halls, my friends would tell stories of how their families came over and would talk about how only one of their parents went to high school. Those of us who weren’t from Iran (or Persian as my friends would refer to themselves) would sit with wide eyes, taking in every story they told us.

One of my friends would tell us about her grandmother sang for the Shah in Iran while another one would tell us about how her grandmother got married at 12, and still lives in Tehran. Her grandparents would come every year to visit, she would tell us stories about the visits. A boy in my class would tell me stories about his family fled Iran to Italy and then as a child he moved to Israel, before coming to America. Another boy in my class was the only person in his entire family to not be born in Iran.

We learnt at a young age that personal space didn’t exist in our friends homes, our business became their business. We learnt that when going to their parties, the time written on the invite didn’t mean anything. The only ones who showed up at that time were the ashkenazi (those of us who came from Eastern European backgrounds.) kids whose parents had never been to a Persian event before. It was good to be friends with the Persian kids, they are the most loyal people in our class.

We were well versed in the rules our Persian friends taught us. Persians can only marry other Persians, Persian girls aren’t allowed to go away for the weekend, Persians don’t have pets and so many more. We would teach our Persian friends words we used, about the foods we ate, why our teachers who were married chose to cover up their hair while their families were taking in the freedom of not having to cover up.

My friends knew Farsi better than they spoke english, they would teach us words so we could follow along. Some of the words we learnt weren’t so great, I remember being in fourth grade and all the boys thought it was SO funny that they learnt the Farsi word for fart.

The Persians would poke fun at our Eastern European traditions, our bland foods and our ability to pick up on Yiddish. We would laugh when they brought over the top foods or how their Bar and Bat Mitzvahs were these grand parties, everyone was invited.

We knew SO much about our friends families, history, traditions, food and so much more. But one thing we never spoke about was the process of them becoming legal immigrants. It didn’t matter to me, my friends were my friends. They were loud, tight-knit, fun, and proud to be from Iran. I will never forget running around the halls with some of my friends while they chanted “Iran Number One” followed by a chorus of laughter and Farsi.

Sara tells a story of one so different yet so similar from that of my friends. Her family came over from Iran to escape the revolution and to give her and her sister a better life. At the age of 12, Sara learns that her family is here illegally and she’s not a legal citizen of this country.

She tells her story. About her relationship with her culture, how she was jealous of her non-Iranian friends while being proud to be who she was. Sara’s story is timeless, one that tells the story of immigrants and their struggle to find a balance.

I loved reading her story, getting to see it through her eyes. Getting to hear about her family dynamic, learn about her feeling towards her culture and see just how challenging and difficult it is to become a citizen of this country.

I loved how real she was. Her story is one of a regular teenager, she talks about her experiences with boys and drugs and how her parents impacted all of that. And what role her culture played in everything she did. She also talks about the not so good things, and the not so great feelings she had towards where she came from.

Her story is one thats different than the ones of my friends, everyones story is different and we need to remember that.

Books like Sara’s are extremely important in todays political climate, learning about other peoples culture and getting to form our own opinions. We hear all about whats going from news outlets, but very rarely do we get to talk or hear from people who are actually living through this. I think this is an important book for people to read.

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