(A follow-up to An Iranian Kossack's Perspective On Iran)
Watching the video of Neda's death had a huge impact on me.
Normally, I'm the type who understands the need to see harsh truths; I haven't had to turn away from violent photos in dkos diaries to illustrate an atrocity or injustice, and the genre of music I compose is full of dark imagery, based around the philosophy that only in facing and confronting negativity can we overcome it.
However, watching Neda's death was different - it has haunted me - and I don't know if this because it's a video instead of a photograph, or because she was so close to my age, or because she goes from vibrant to dead in forty seconds, or because I am feeling guilt as an Iranian American so removed from the dangers my generation is facing.
Perhaps it is all of the above - but watching her felt like watching myself die. Even knowing how it ends, I was pulling for her to survive with every ounce of my being.
I tried not to think about how much the video disturbed me at first, but soon I realized that the right thing to do was something constructive, and to do my part for all those who are struggling (tiny as that part might be).
Below the fold, Mourning Neda, a song dedicated to those who have fallen for freedom in Iran:
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