How to build a community in the diaspora — and raise awareness about your home country

Phantom stings crawled along Sarah Eskandari’s back.

Her body vividly recalled the burning skin produced by being lashed 10 times by the morality police in Iran for allegedly not covering her hair properly.

It was a traumatic moment that happened about a decade ago. But when Eskandari heard about 22-year-old Zhina Masha Amini’s suspicious death in the custody of the morality police, for the same alleged offense, the trauma of Eskandari’s own experiences again reverberated. The panic attack when they pulled her into their van to drive her to the police station, the pain of the lashings, the inability to sleep for days afterward.

It was Amini who died, but it could have been Eskandari, who came to Philadelphia about two years ago for a doctorate program at the University of Pennsylvania.

It could have been Pouya Hatam, who grew up in Iran but has been living in Philadelphia for three decades, or her sisters and nieces who are still in Iran.

It could have been Sanaz Yaghmai — whose parents fled the country after the 1979 revolution — during one of her visits to her home country, or her female relatives who still live there.

Amini’s death, and the subsequent uprising in Iran — which some surmise is the biggest the country has seen since its 1979 revolution — have awakened a collective trauma and grief among Iranians in the diaspora, who have been swallowing the oppression they feel the regime has been subjecting civilians to for decades.

As they watched protests surge back home and across the world, they felt the need to take action and be surrounded by other Iranians who could relate.

Since they couldn’t find any space for that, they created it.

The Inquirer spoke to members of the organization Philly Iran, which has staged at least six protests since its founding in October, about how to find and create community in the diaspora, heal, and effect change back home. Here’s what they had to say.

When Yaghmai saw massive protests rippling across Iran and the globe, she wondered why none had taken place in Philadelphia. Although she was new to the city and only knew one other Iranian, she knew she had to do something to raise awareness about her home country.

So Yaghmai took to Telegram, a social media messenger app, and joined the Iranians in Philadelphia page. Yaghmai introduced herself to the group and asked if anyone would be interested in organizing a protest with her.

It started out with just a handful of people who planned a a vigil for Amini, followed by a protest at City Hall. But then those five Iranians knew more Iranians, and the group quickly grew.

Even if you can’t find a group through a simple Google or social media search, you can make one yourself.

“I saw this as an opportunity to strengthen Iranian bonds (in Philadelphia).”

Raise awareness and build a following on social media. From the beginning of the uprising, Montreh Tavakkoli saw her primary role as news disseminator — explaining the events in Iran and their surrounding context to a Philly audience and beyond. She and other organizers, including Yaghmai, created an Instagram page for Philly Iran, and the followers quickly piled in.

“We were raised to not get involved with politics, to not be activists, particularly when it comes to the history of Iran,” Tavakkoli said. “All of a sudden, I feel this urgent need to change all of that.”

Consider hosting unconventional protests that simultaneously celebrate your roots.

In December, Philly Iran showed support for the revolution while celebrating the winter solstice – Shabeh Yalda in Farsi — a night where Iranians gather for ceremony and ritual until the sun rises. For them, the event illustrated the richness of Iranian culture through music, art, and poetry — showing this is a country, people, and heritage worth fighting for.

“We decided instead of having a celebratory, happy event, to turn it into something that tries to focus on those issues and bring community together, raise awareness and show the culture in a very different way with music,” said Sepehr Pirasteh, a doctoral student in music studies at Temple University, who arranged and composed the music for the event.

For Pirasteh and others involved with Philly Iran, the Yalda night was one of the most powerful events the group has organized so far — filled with collective appreciation, grieving, and healing.

Allies are key for organizing.

The organizers of Philly Iran knew that if they were going to effect change back home, they needed to raise awareness outside the Iranian community. So they used their own diversity to find support outside of it.

Tavakkoli, who is queer, reached out to the LGBTQ community, and is organizing an informational panel on LGBTQ civil rights in Iran and the current revolution. Pouya Hatam, who has been established in Philadelphia for decades, brought her local network to the group. Pirasteh and Eskandari involved their respective campus departments, and reached out to other students organizations.

Watching your home country erupt into turmoil can fill you with helplessness, survivor’s guilt, trauma, loneliness, nostalgia, and more.

Philly Iran hasn’t only staged protests and created Instagram posts — it has focused on infusing community members’ lives with companionship, understanding, and healing. As you build your community and raise awareness about your home country, utilize those spaces to nurture mental health.

Yaghmai, for example, used her background in psychology to start a support group for Iranians to connect during this turbulent time.

“I genuinely believe that healing happens in community,” she said. “Engaging in these practices together offers healing and it’s cathartic. And that trust is being built … so it’s now becoming an even more healing and supportive space.”