cultural DNA never lies. I studied molecular biology and genetics, and now I understand this differently: when something expresses, it cannot be undone, and pausing too long creates mutation. But mutation is not always negative—we can evolve into better human beings. We must continue with hope and with action.
Honoring where I come from is no longer a task or a justification—it is something I live as a ritual every day. My genetic and cultural origin is the Iranian plateau, one of the earliest centers of civilized life, where care for Earth, human connection, creativity, and poetic living were part of everyday existence. That history carries weight, like a unified science, not just philosophy. As an Iranian-American woman, I learned to hold two energies almost seamlessly: the humility that is deeply Persian, and the courage to express, which is my American side. For me, honoring my roots is not nostalgic pride—it is translation into something real and usable today. Evidence matters. Practice matters. I don’t believe in celebrating identity just because; I believe in living it through action, as a lifestyle. So the responsibility becomes: how do I take something ancient and make it relevant without losing its integrity? That is where my work lives—not in preserving the past as it was, but allowing it to evolve into a lifestyle that supports future generations in a meaningful, practical way, a continuation of being and living as a human from ancient Iran.
What does it mean to you to preserve PersianNess as a woman, not just culturally, but emotionally and intellectually?
To me, PersianNess is a lifestyle—one that Persian women designed like alchemists. As mothers, caregivers, wives, homemakers, cooks, and decorators, they created a living system of care. The home was not just a space; it was a sanctuary, a hospitality suite, and an apothecary—extending from the kitchen into society. Women were then celebrated alongside Earth celebrations, where life itself was honored. The queendom of women from the home met the kingdom of men in society. Their roles were not separate or one-directional; they were an intersection. Raising refined human beings required an understanding of life, health, and how to stay in sync with the universe.
PersianNess, as a lifestyle, was deeply advanced—almost futuristic in its design. It was told and lived thousands of years ago, then disrupted and derailed, and I feel the world has been deprived of truly knowing it over the past 50 years. It is a cultural intelligence—a world heritage—that deserves to be preserved by all of us, not just me. It is a light that continues to rise, even from its ashes. To preserve it, for me, is to live with that light—both scientifically and emotionally—toward a more rhythmic, almost musical way of living well and wiser each day. PersianNess is poetry, but it is also a weave of life—an intelligent process on its own. And I am still becoming it.
What are some of the most pressing challenges you see women facing right now, both within Iranian communities and globally, and where do you see opportunities for change?
The pressing challenge is universal, and I don’t think it belongs only to women. There is a quiet exhaustion—a survival mode that has led to a loss of clarity for many of us. We feel one thing, hear another, and then follow something completely different. Again, we are so used to fulfilling a role. This time, we are fulfilling the role of survival, and at times, even the role of a victim.