Top 14 Said Sayrafiezadeh Quotes

I need to feel as if everything is clean and in its proper place before I can even attempt to write one word. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I make the bed, I put away the dishes, maybe I dust, maybe I do the laundry, maybe I go to the post office.

I feel more Jewish than I do Iranian.

I suppose my Iranian identity is one of the driving forces for being a writer: I want to set the record straight about who I really am.

We were poor, my mother and I, living in a world of doom and gloom, pessimism and bitterness, where storms raged and wolves scratched at the door.

It’s very difficult for me to look at politics with clear eyes. I’ll read a story in the paper and the first thing that pops into my head is, what would my dad say about that? Then I try to break out of that and think, ‘What would Said say about that,’ and then it gets complicated.

My childhood was defined by my father’s absence. His presence looms so large. Up until the age of 18, he was a superstar for me.

There’s always been something a little pathetic for me at the work parties I’ve attended, especially thinking back to the restaurants I worked in. I remember a Christmas party in which we all got free T-shirts with the restaurant on the front and our names on the back.

In many ways I’m similar to Barack Obama, who also has a strange name but was raised by a white American mother. His background is far more complicated than his name would suggest. Furthermore, the fact that I was a child during the hostage crisis has caused me to equate being Iranian with being alienated.

I was born in Brooklyn and raised in Pittsburgh. I’ve never been to Iran, I don’t speak the language, and, probably most important of all, my Iranian father left home when I was nine months old. That’s the extent of my connection to Iran.

More people work at Walmart than anywhere else in the United States, but you wouldn’t know that from our literature. I’m trying to get at the reality of this country by portraying the lives of many of my friends who I left behind in Pittsburgh.

The year the bus drivers went on strike in Pittsburgh, I was twenty-three and living on the edge of the city in a neighborhood that was on the verge of becoming a ghetto. I had just been fired from a good job as a cartographer in a design studio where I had worked for about four months.

The difference between our family and other poor families was that my mother actively chose to be poor. She was highly literate, and she had a college degree, but after my father left, she took the first secretarial job she could find and never looked for other employment again.

My characters are not underachievers; they aspire to great things, but they are limited by the world around them.

Stasis is something that has marked my life since I was a boy growing up in Pittsburgh with my mother. It was the natural state that we existed in. For one thing, she suffered from a debilitating depression throughout my childhood, and depression is nothing if not static.