She was born in autumn, not knowing where she was born, yet. She grew up always burdened by a sense that she was different, that she did not belong.

Her mind was plagued by the question- How am I different from the others? She compared herself with the others: 2 legs, 2 hands with five fingers each. Eyes in the right place and a sound mind with equal potential. Little did she know that the difference was not her appearance, but that which lay across the border: The difference was between the countries.

Seven years passed. She went to a school that further alienated her. A school whose teachers asked her to leave, for she couldn’t pay the fee. A school where her only response was to silently resign, pack up her things and leave.

She managed to pay the fee and return next week to the school that later denied her a prize she so rightfully won-denied just because she was ‘different’.

All around her she witnessed Afghans being mocked. Those around her enjoyed making and watching movies that made fun of the Afghan dialect. Arrogantly proclaiming Afghans to be nothing but toys to be played with.

An annual trip to the immigration center got her the PR card. With this card, she could go to school and use social services. However, with it she had pay three times the normal price for those amenities. She couldn’t understand all these differences, but how could she? She was a child after all.

Where were you when you were seven?

At the age of seven, she needed money to breathe. So, she went to work with her family in the summer heat. At the age of seven, just breathing, not living.

At the age of eleven, she lost her father to work, and with him she lost her hope for life. Even her will to breathe.

Days passed and she accompanied her mother to the United Nations’ office where, alongside the routine school allowance and residence cards, they asked about migration to Europe. Later, they settled in Finland.

She was very happy. With this chance of starting a new life, she decided to forget her past. She embraced everything with a newfound wonder, everything that, to her, seemed so interesting and intriguing- even the long cold winter darkness.

She went to a language school to learn this new country’s language, understanding for the first time what it means to live.

A few months pass. Now, she has to join students her age. Finally, she got her chance to fit in for once and be a normal child.

When she first walked into her classroom, she was welcomed with laughter and mockery. She couldn’t understand- “Why are they laughing at me? Am I different here too? Will I always be different?”. She felt, from that day onwards, that she was in a prison...again.

Each day was harder than the previous. Harder because of the people and classmates around her, natives that considered themselves superior to a child who was thousands of kilometers away from everything she was familiar with. And so, their laughter continued.

She escaped from many classes like History where she could not understand the language. She was hurting and unhappy, longing for the country that had with the people she belonged with. The war-torn country that she had never seen, the country whose name people were afraid to mention, Afghanistan.

Two years passed and eventually she got used to it, paying no attention to those who jeered, mocked and laughed.

Then time came for High School.

At first, she wished to go to the Conservatory because she didn’t think she was good enough for High School but her teacher convinced her to give it a try.

Now she’s in High School and is able to fill herself with dreams of helping others. She has built herself into someone who can achieve those dreams. She is no longer the child who constantly looked for differences and a country she that belonged to; because now she understands that she belongs to the Earth. We all do. We belong to a planet where the only divide that exists is created by those in power.

They divide us by skin and race.

But we are humans sharing the same space.

And she was an Afghan living in Iran.

-Marzi Alizadeh (ft. Antaraa Dasgupta)

Unbelievable isn’t it- the stories a stranger may have to tell? Our lives have made it so that we hardly take an interest in our peers.  We are reluctant to give people a chance. What’s more is that we are unwilling to give people a second chance, as we can’t put our faith in them. I agree that they may repeat their mistakes, but those cases are not as frequent as we think. Personally, I prefer giving someone a second chance even if they are blatantly toxic. The small chance of making them feel acknowledged and change their behavior is worth it. I’ve noticed that my class bullies have always responded better to kindness than hate.

Which brings me to the second point- being nice.

The reason you feel you belong somewhere are the people.

Now imagine that you leave those people and are placed in a fully foreign land, where everyone is mean to you. You’ll breakdown. You’ll beg to go home. You’ll be desperate for friends, acknowledgement and attention- chances are you’ll do outrageous things to be noticed.

Humans are capable of incredible deeds even without money, fame or intelligence. All you need is kindness. A simple act of kindness, be it a greeting or compliment, can brighten up someone’s day.

The greatest, and simplest,  thing you can do for someone is acknowledge them. We often think small deeds are ineffective, but they can change someone. What greater power could you desire than affecting and changing lives? To make someone, thousands of kilometers from home- mentally or physically- feel they belong around you is the noblest thing you are capable of doing at this moment*.

There is someone you know who is homesick, depressed or just having a bad day. Talk to them. Forget any grudges or bad blood. Attempt to connect with them even if they have hurt you**.

Kindness needs no reason.

*I realize this after the joy I experienced in my host family when they made me feel I mattered. Instant homesickness cure.

**Of course you can dismiss me, and I agree in some cases it is inadvisable- but personally I have never come across such cases. It’s always fixable.

در پاييز به دنيا آمد، بي خبر از آنكه بداند در كجا. در آنجا رشد كرد و با رشد كردن احساس كرد با ديگران فرق ميكند و به آنجا تعلق ندارد . او سوال هاي زيادي داشت و كنجكاو بود بداند فرقش با ديگران چيست؟ ظاهر ديگران را با خود مقايسه ميكرد ، دست ها و پاهاي ديگران را ميشمرد و سپس از خود را. او فرق ها را در ظاهر ميخواست بيابد اما نميدانست فرق ميان ظاهر نيست اين فرق اسمي دارد به نام مرز، فرقي ميان كشور ها.

هفت سالگي رفت به مدرسه در آنجا فرق را روز به روز بيشتر احساس ميكرد.او فرق را زماني فهميد كه در مدرسه سركلاس معلمش گفت تو نميتواني درس بخواني و بايد بروي و تا زماني هم كه پول ندادي برنگرد او در آن زمان سرشكنده و با استرس كيفش را برداشت و رفت . ولي هفته بعد بعد از پرداخت پول دوباره رفت و سر همان كلاس نشست . يك روز در مسابقه اي شركت كرد اما جايزه نگرفت بخاطر فرق داشتن، در تلوزيون با ساختن فيلم ها لهجه افغانستاني ها را مسخره ميكردند و نشان ميدادند كه همه حق بازي كردن با اين ها را دارد.هر سال بايد ميرفت به سازمان مهاجران براي دريافت كارت اقامت بدون آن كارت نميتوانست به مدرسه برود و يا از خدمات اجتماعي استفاده كند و اما با آن كارت ميتوانست با پرداخت سه برابر پول نسبت به بقيه از خدمات آنجا استفاده كند. براي او سخت بود درك كردن اين همه تفاوت ها. زيرا براي زندگي كردن در آنجا به پول نياز بود او به همراه خانواده خود تابستان ها به سركار ميرفت رفت زماني كه فقط 7 سال سن داشت. او زندگي نميكرد فقط نفس ميكشيد.

او در 11 سالگي پدر خود را در اثر صانحه كاري از دست داد

و همراه پدرش اميد به زندگي ... نه او حتي اميد به نفس كشيدن را هم از دست داد. روز ها گذشت و او و مادر براي دريافت كمك شهريه مدرسه و كارت اقامت به سازمان ملل رفتند در آنجا از آنها درباره مهاجرت به اروپا سوال كردن و چند مدت بعد آنها در اروپا ساكن شدند. اوايل خيلي خوشحال بود و تصميم گرفته بود گذشته اش را فراموش كند و زندگي جديدي را شروع كند . برايش همه چيز در آنجا جالب بود حتي زمستان دراز و سرد و تاريكش. به مدرسه رفت و شروع به يادگيري زبان كرد و براي اولين بار معني زندگي كردن را فهميد. چند ماه گذشت و او اكنون بايد با دانش آموزان آن كشور درس ميخواند. استرس داشت و زماني كه وارد كلاس شد همه خنديدند و او نفهميد چرا. از آن روز به بعد مدرسه مانند زندان برايش بود و دوباره دوران قبلي زندگي اش به يادش آمد. سخت بود و از همه سخت تر مسخره شدن از طرف مهاجراني بود كه در آنجا به دنيا آمده بودند و خود را بالاتر ميدانستند. از خيلي از درس ها فرار ميكرد مخصوصا تاريخ چون هيچي نميفهميد. افسردگي گرفته بود و در آن زمان او فقط به كشوري فكر ميكرد كه هيچوقت نديده بود به جايي كه تعلق داشت

به كشور جنگ زده اي كه حتي مردم از شنيدن اسمش وحشت داشتن. او حسرت يكبار درس خواندن با زبان مادري اش را خورد در اصل او با حسرت بزرگ شد.

دو سال گذشت و او گويا عادت كرده بود و ديگر سختي چنداني نداشت . به خنديدن ديگران توجه اي نميكرد چراكه به آن هم عادت كرده بود . بعد سال نهم او ميخواست به هنرستان برود چون براي رفتن به دبيرستان به خود باور نداشت اعتماد به نفسش را كشته بودند. اما معلمش او را براي رفتن به دبيرستان راضي كرد و او الان در دبيرستان است و روياهاي زيادي دارد، روياي كمك به ديگران . او خود را ساخت و با هر شرايطي وقف داد و ميداند ميتواند روياهايش را نيز بسازد.

او ديگر آن كودك ديروز نيست كه دنبال فرق ها بگردد و يا به كشوري كه به آن تعلق دارد فكر كند چون او حالا فهميده است به هيچ جا تعلق ندارد جز سياره اي به اسم زمين ، سياره اي كه قدرتمندان آن را تقسيم كردند. ما قبل از آنكه اهل جايي باشيم انسان هستيم و برابر با همه تفاوت هاي پوستي يا نژادي آري درست فهميده ايد او يك افغانستاني بود كه در ايران زندگي ميكرد .