I’ve know Jamal basically since I moved to DC. He was my boss when I interned at the National Iranian American Council. We played soccer together in a few Saturday morning leagues and spent one-afternoon several years ago playing pickup basketball.

That said we never delved into his childhood. Nor did I know much about his dreams for his son’s Iranianness to be more than just a novelty. I had assumed that he, like myself, had developed an overbearing condition that’s commonly known as imposter syndrome when he steps into spaces filled with Iranians. And that the genesis of it came, in part, from not having a full grasp of the language. 

As the head of the National Iranian American Council, being mixed-race Iranian-American, and a father, I knew Jamal would bring a unique perspective to the conversation.