Read on Twitter
Today I took my Dad for an appointment. He proudly told a man that "she is a sports journalist- a feminist one!" I was stunned because Dad was not being ironic he sounded ... proud. I tried not to tear up.
I grew up in a immigrant home where education, job security and financial stability were why my parents worked 18 hr days. I am not a doctor, an engineer, a teacher or a lawyer. I am not of a treasured profession.
Imagine little Shireen saying: "I want to dismantle patriarchy and talk about race/ gender structures of oppression in sports!"
LOL. Yeah, no.
LOL. Yeah, no.
To all the aspiring disrupters out there: you are loved, you are valued and your work is important. Sometimes it takes our parents decades to realize that our passions don't come pre-packaged. They do the best they can, and their challenges are not something we always understand.
And so, maybe my industry is exhausting and not the most stable. I am a fighter. They taught me to fight.
Love and support of parents is something I that fuels my bones.
Love and support of parents is something I that fuels my bones.
Also, if my kids are reading this: "Go to medical school."
I'm still a Brown Mama.
I'm still a Brown Mama.
Alhumdullilah for our elders. Watching them (un)learn and love differently makes my heart burst with awe and respect. May God protect them. -Ameen
