Daydreaming

If I want to describe myself in a single word, it's daydreaming. The love of daydreaming was probably passed on to me from my father, who respected his dreams of easing the sufferings of other people so much that he set out to the hazardous combat zones of Iran-Iraq war to work as a medical volunteer when he was only 23 and his wife was pregnant. Indeed he never came back before he got so badly wounded that couldn't move for a few months.

Two years ago, my dreams of becoming a scientist brought me from Iran to the United States and to this University as a PhD student. But soon the barriers of language, culture, and presumptions made me feel lonely, marginalized and insignificant in my new community. It seemed to me that all my past dreams are going to wither. And longing for my family and all the people that I loved, I kept fantasizing of a single scene: reuniting with them. 

Right when I was going through this gloomy struggle I joined IMP, and met a lot of dreamers. One of them was Albert, a high school student who dreams of playing in his school football team, dreams of his single mom having enough money to buy Christmas gifts for her two kids, dreams of going to college and even dreams of reading more books to have more knowledge. But he had no hope that any of these dreams will come true as he was stuck in the cycle of failure, poverty, and drugs.

The struggles of me and Albert with the challenges and problems upon each of us, are by no means over. But being touched by the souls of the great people in IMP, we learned not to lose our hopes, and keep on daydreaming for a brighter future. It even taught us how to invent greater dreams out of our little frustrations and fantasies.

-- Hadi (IMP volunteer)