It is a magical creature, as thin as paper, with so many patterns. In my work I use the image of a butterfly. But every act of resistance is a spark of hope. Repression and violation of human rights is not an exclusively Iranian phenomenon. Every artist draws from their lived experience. I have been living in Germany for more than 30 years as an artist, activist and art professor. In that moment of solidarity, all fear fades. Propaganda banners had been shredded and burned. On the way to my parents’ house I saw slogans against the regime sprayed on walls. The first sign of change was these wonderful women’s hair. But when I walked out of that interrogation room, my eyes roamed round the entrance hall and I saw unveiled women. This year I was fearful, but with the uprising in Iran I was determined to do my part. I go to Tehran every year on the anniversary of my parents’ deaths. Since then, the families of victims of such murders have used the anniversaries to remember them, but also to demand truth and justice. One day I heard my parents had been murdered by Islamic Republic agents, in the house where I grew up. I wanted to go back to Iran to work as an artist, but when I put on an exhibition there I was besieged by secret service agents. In 1991 I came to Germany with my two little sons to study. The family of those who were involved politically suffered, too. And among the most radical opponents were my parents. It took decades for an opposition to form, for people to find a language to speak out, to criticise. We didn’t know if he would ever get out of prison, but fortunately he was released. My father was arrested and sentenced to death. Three girls from my class in high school were put in jail, and one was killed. It wasn’t just the veil: all freedoms were suddenly restricted. By the 1980s I had started to study art and I saw how bad it was – that repressive bleakness. The Islamic Republic grew into a monster that uses tradition and religion to oppose diversity, freedom, democracy and the rights of women. Intellectuals, liberals, democrats, people like my parents committed themselves to the revolution, but the religious forces gained the upper hand. When the revolution took place, I was 16. And at home there were always political meetings with my parents’ comrades, who were like family to me. My parents met through their political struggle, fighting for democracy in the Shah’s time. I was born and raised in Iran, in a dissident family.
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