Onward to Charlotte!!

I'm there!!!

I've been so busy blogging for other sites that I've hardly had the time to write on my own. You can read the recent articles below that I posted as the South Asian Political Blogger for Hyphen magazine:

•  Our Political Leaders Deserve Some Blame for Sikh Shooting 
• Muslims Gain Seats at Dems 'Big Tent' Convention 
• Discussing South Asians in Politics with Congressional Candidate Chivikula

But what I LOVE about blogging here is I can just be me, writing about what I want, when I want. My writing may be sappy, unfocused, repetitive and include too many exclamation points, but hey that's me!

Yup.....me

And me, myself and I will be headed to Charlotte, North Carolina this Sunday for the Superbowl of Democratic politics, the 2012 Democratic National Convention. As the day grows nearer I just get more and more excited, so excited in fact that I actually went shopping just for the convention. Hey a lady's got some swag to maintain...

The heels compliment my Napoleon complex

All kidding aside, I can't wait for this experience. I know that when I will be on the convention floor, watching President Obama present his big speech, I will recall how 4 years ago at that exact moment, I was sitting in an African American hair salon with a group of strangers and my dear friend Chris Haines to watch Obama's speech as he accepted the  official nomination for President. That was an awesome DNC watch party filled with cupcakes and new friends, who didn't hesitate to give up their salon chairs for me.

And before that, I recall my father watching the conventions. He was always into politics though he wasn't really an activist. I remember watching Bill Clinton being on stage with confetti everywhere, and people screaming with crazy hats, all in red white and blue. I remember thinking "wow, what a party and how does someone get invited to that".

Partaaaay! Can't wait to make DNC confetti angels

So here I am, not just invited, but an elected district level delegate. I want to thank my friend and fellow CA District 13 delegate, Igor Tregub for personally calling me and pushing me to run. I would never had done it if it weren't for his call!

Yet being elected as delegate was just the first step, I still needed to raise over $1500 dollars so that I could go. No money, no Charlotte. Amazingly, I was able to raise that amount in under two months. And it was all because of my friends and loved ones, they gave without hesitation. I think I am still in awe of it all. Thank to all of them! I got invited to the game, but they were the ones who made sure that I showed up.

Speaking of support, some of my biggest supporters were the family members of my friend Travis, whom I've mentioned on this blog many times. He was in the military and was killed in Afghanistan only 3 months ago. He was excited when I told him that I would be a delegate, and here I am, finally on my way there and I cannot share it with him as I had planned to do.

But I am sharing it with his wonderful family. His parents covered my plane ticket and his relatives further supported me by giving even more money...just amazing.

I will never forget

I will be wearing these dog tags in honor of Travis for the entire time at convention. I do hope people ask me about him, I want to share his story and his impact on my life. Thanks again to his family for sending me the tags. Travis may not be there in person, but he's there, I'm bringing him with me! This is one of many reasons why this convention means so much to me. it may be a big political prep rally and yes Obama is a shoe-in for the democratic nomination, but it is an opportunity and experience of a lifetime.

I will be attending a ton of cool meetings, and will be moderating a panel for the American Muslim Alliance, whose leader Dr. Agha Saeed has already given me a wealth of information on political organizing and Muslim Civic engagement history. The AMA hospitality suite will address the problems plaguing Muslim and Muslim perceived communities in the US, in particular addressing the troubling implications of the civil rights defying National Defense and Authorization Act.

got civil rights?

Outside of the many meetings, I was also invited by the State Dept to present a briefing to foreign journalists regarding my journey as a delegate and to discuss and answer questions regarding Muslim American participation in the United States. They read my article on Hyphen and asked me to speak. I am so honored and excited to this, I have never done a press conference, especially as the only one speaking! To top it off the State Dept will be recording the session to send to all of their foreign embassies. Talk about pressure, but you know I love it because they want me to talk after all!

I hope to blog from Charlotte, if not I will be tweeting my thumbs off ...and taking photos (of course).

But before I go I want to say another thanks. I want to thank my parents for instilling a deep love for my fellow human beings - my political involvement and interest came from that. They are currently in the middle of Pennsylvania, in a tucked away little city, but I am so glad that they can watch the convention on TV and know that their daughter, the daughter of Bangladeshi Muslim immigrant parents, is out there representing.

Abbu and Mamoni, your baby's going to the DNC!

And you all made it possible, so thank you and I can't wait to tweet you all a picture of me giving the President a bear hug, before I am promptly tackled by the secret service (calm down Homeland Security, that was a joke).

See you in Charlotte!

Love,
Nadia

Saying Goodbye

Travis sitting outside at night under the streetlights during basic training

Ever since I found out about Travis's passing in Afghanistan, I have teetered back and forth, from celebrating our friendship and re-reading his emails, to utter despair and disbelief at his loss. This past Monday offered some solace to me, as I was able to join his loved ones to finally put Travis to rest.

I have never attended a military funeral. I have only seen them on the news, or in Time magazine, the pictures of families sobbing, the grand procession, the flag folding ceremony. It all seemed so heart wrenching, but also detached from my own experiences. After this week, I will never feel that way again.

folding the flags to give to his parents

At the funeral cemetery, when soldiers marched and folded the flag, I felt like I was in a hazy dream. That perhaps none of this was really happening. That Travis couldn't really be gone, that I couldn't be really standing at his funeral watching soldiers folding a flag for HIM. He was supposed to come back safe, like so many people I knew who had been deployed and had returned.

But there it was, right in front of my eyes. When the soldiers handed the flags to his parents, my heart just shattered for them and their unbearable loss. The soldiers took Travis's ashes and respectfully placed them in their final resting place, inside a granite wall with his name tagged on it. And that was it, Travis had finally come home. Right then, an army helicopter swooped above us, circling around the funeral party while waving an American flag. My eyes blurred as tears ran down my face when I saw this. It was all so much, so much emotion, so much trauma, and so much grief.

I spent the time after the funeral hanging out with his family and attending a gathering at his grandfathers beautiful home. His family and friends told me stories about his life, about how he told them about me and our friendship, which touched me deeply. I also learned so much about him. Strangely, it was as if I got to know him better after his death. The friendship Travis and I had had an instant connection, but was brief. I only knew him in the present, as he shared his thoughts and uncertainties about Afghanistan, about his life as a ranger. Now, I learned that he was a huge broncos fan, that he grew up in Washington, but spent summer in San Jose, how he loved football and basketball, and hated taking pictures, but above all else he much he loved his family and always kept everyone together. I looked through his baby pictures and marveled at the man that he had become, and the man that we had all lost.

I want to thank his wonderful family for opening their hearts to me during one of the most difficult times in their lives. They loved the blog post I wrote about Travis so much that they printed it out along with his photos to show everyone, and shared it far and wide. It gave me some comfort to know that somehow, I could be there for them. His mother, father, stepfather, stepmother, and myriad of aunts and uncles warmed my heart with their close bonds. I was inspired to meet them and get to know them. I only hope that one day, I can help cultivate a family unit with as much love and connection as I saw within them.

Thirteen of Travis's friends also flew down from Washington to attend his funeral. I have never seen young men show so much dedication to a friend, to shell out that kind of money to make sure that they would not miss this final goodbye.

with Joe Morgado, Travis's father

I also spoke to his father, Joe, for awhile. He recalled how small Travis had been as a baby and how he wouldn't give up one second of his life with Travis for anything, that every second was cherished. I found out how even at the very end, how brave Travis was, and how he put his military unit first. I remember Travis once mentioned to me that he was more afraid of having someone under his command get hurt, rather than himself. That was him, selfless till the end.

And that is what I carry with me now. All of these memories, all of the love I felt from his family. I am still grappling with sadness and loss. I know that I will never get another email from him, or get to send him another book. But now I am emailing some of his friends and families, it's amazing the impact that one persons life can have. It's amazing what experiences one can go through by just saying hi to someone on a plane.

Travis's father told me that Travis always wanted to do something that would be remembered. I will do my part to make sure that this happens, that people know about Travis and what his life meant. How in such a short time, he has inspired me forever. But it doesn't end there. One thing Travis and I really connected on was our desire to do something meaningful with our lives, to make the world a better place. Travis may be gone, but he always encouraged me. He was so excited for my trip to Vietnam, for me to be involved in politics, for all of the social justice work I am involved in. I feel a renewed passion to go out there and never give up. To live my life to the fullest and make the biggest impact I can make. To be fearless and steadfast in my efforts.  And I will do it, with Travis in my heart, inspiring me all the way through.

Travis, when I close my eyes, I see your kind eyes, your slight smile as we talked excitedly on and on and on while you sat right next to me. Now you are so far away, and I can't get to where you are. But I cherish that memory so dearly. We all cherish your memory in every way possible. Befriending you, losing you, and connecting with your loved ones over your early loss has given me one of the most profound experiences of my life.

So thank you Travis! Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for letting me share your world for a little while before you left.

For that, I am forever grateful.

Love always,
Nadia


To see more photos, you can go to my Facebook Album:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10101695914041549.3090406.8803719&type=1&l=ac0e01fbe6

Remembering Travis

Travis with his aunt Jenny (I never had the chance to take a photo with him)

This past Friday night, I was casually strolling through my facebook when I saw a photo someone posted of my friend, Travis Morgado. I stopped to look at the photo and noticed that the caption read R.I.P. My mind raced and I frantically scrolled through his page. I noticed comment after comment giving condolences and R.I.P's. The word 'no' was screaming through my brain as it sunk in. My worst fears had come true, and the person I had hoped would come back from Afghanistan safely was now gone forever. We had e-mailed each other only two weeks before and now he was gone. He was only 25 years old.

That hurts. Writing that hurts. I met Travis not that long ago. I was coming back from DC after my amazing experience lobbying Capitol Hill with my fellow NAPAWF sisters and was boarding my flight when I noticed a young man in fatigues headed towards my seat. I had noticed him earlier, and his uniform piqued my curiosity. For some reason, I felt like I wanted to know his story. Maybe it was because I was an Army brat for the first ten years of my life (a fact that most people don't know about me),with my Bangladeshi immigrant father serving both in the US Army and National Guard reserve. Or maybe it's because my boyfriend, Roberto and my mentor Anthony are also ex-Marines. These people are some of the most important and maybe THE most important people in my life and with that, the military also became a part of my life story, intermingled in my history and in the history of people I love.

I think I spoke to Travis first, and true to my nature (and the name of this blog), I didn't shut up; neither of us did. We talked the during the ENTIRE five hour flight to SF. I don't think I ever spoke to a complete stranger for that long, let alone on a plane. But it was so easy, he was a great listener, and I was so interested in his decision to join the military and where he would be going.  I have strong views against militarism and war, so talking to him was a fascinating insight into why he was enlisted and how he felt about being shipped to Afghanistan. I told him that if he was to go Afghanistan, he should learn about the people, their customs and maintain his humanity the best he could. With this in mind, I promised to send him the book, Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson, a book about an American who went to Pakistan and Afghanistan to build schools for girls, and how he did it by being respectful and open to the cultures of the communities he was working with.

Travis on the right, just as I remember him on the plane wearing his fatigues. You aren't supposed to wear fatigues on a plane, but he told me all of his clothes had already been sent home so he had no choice ;-)
Photo by: Army OCS 006-11 2nd Platoon Black Hearts

The plane landed, we exchanged information and went down the terminal together. At the door, I introduced him to my boyfriend, and waved good bye...that was the last time I ever physically saw him.

Yet not the last time I heard from him. I sent him my copy of the book and wrote a note for him in the inside cover. We sent e-mails back and forth. He emailed me about his crazy time in Vegas and I emailed him about my plans to go to Vietnam. A week after I met him, he donated $100 to my cause (which I mentioned in an earlier blog post). That act of kindness brought me to tears when I saw the donation pull up. I had just met him and was overwhelmed by his quick generosity. I knew this guy was special.

He was deployed to Afghanistan on March 20. In Afghanistan we continue to email each other. He told me how he was so nervous to be coming in from the outside and commanding men, he didn't know if he could do it right. I sent words of encouragement and told him to watch out for camel spiders. I sent him another book to read. I knew he was glad to have someone to talk to while he was deployed. I always told him to be safe. I wrote it to him, emailed it to him and texted to him. I always wished for his safety.

When I found out about his death from a roadside bomb, I was hysterical. I then saw articles of him posted. It is so weird to see your friend as an article. I felt so sad for his parents and family, I could not imagine what they were going through. I called my boyfriend because he knew what it was like to lose his comrades in war. I called him so angry. I was always angry about the wars, but now war seemed even more meaningless and senseless. Who wins a war? Who ever truly wins a war? The innocent civilians who are murdered ruthlessly as collateral damage? The young men in their prime who are buried by their parents? The politicians making the decisions without facing any of the consequences? Who EVER WINS a war? I ranted these things to Roberto, who had lost many men in his unit, though he himself was never deployed.

I somehow went to sleep that night, with a dose of Tylenol PM and chamomile tea. When I woke up the next morning, I felt like my face had been hit by a truck. The crying and tears had drained me, but I picked myself up and went to an event to meet Congresswoman Barbara Lee, an amazing woman who was one of the few representatives who voted against the Iraq war from the very beginning, and has been a great leader. I knew that Travis would have wanted me to attend this event, to keep following my dreams, to fight the good fight, make connections and change the world. He was excited for me when I was elected to be a delegate to the Democratic National Convention. He told me that I would probably end up all famous and successful one day and forget about the little people like him. That one day when he would tell people that he knew me, they would laugh him off as a crazy old lieutenant.

With Rep. Lee...this one was for you, Travis

I knew back then that I would never forget him. I told him so, but now with everything that has happened, his memory is seared into my heart and mind forever.

I have never lost a friend or family member who was a soldier in a war. Yet I always stopped to look and acknowledged memorials of the thousands of young men and women who lost their lives. In Vietnam. In Iraq. In Afghanistan.  Now I know someone and it has changed me, death always changes the living.

It is Memorial Day today, memorial day will never be the same for me. I think about Travis all the time, the shock has worn off but I am still in disbelief.  Sometimes I fantasize that he will come back and we could continue our friendship, finally get to hang out again. But it's just a fantasy, something that makes me smile and saddens me at the same time.

I wanted to sign this post off with one of the last things Travis wrote to me via e-mail. It was something poignant that stuck with me...

"I think that at one point not even that long ago I was a lot different of a person than I am now. Don't you ever think about how your life would have been different had you just done a couple of things another way? I think that regret is a feeling that can consume a person. It's the difference between a happy person and a sad one, every local I meet here show no signs of regret, they all seem happy with their lives. Complete opposite of most of the soldiers I've met here. I have always believed that there has to be something mentally wrong with a person to pick my job, especially since every other job in the army is more practical, and less dangerous. And the longer I'm in the more I believe that I am right. We are fighting without a purpose, you cannot kill an idea, and yet everyone here is still willing to fight, and just waiting to get shot at." - Travis Morgado

I hope that in the end Travis, you did not have regrets. I know you chose your path, and knew the dangers. Neither of us knows the purpose of war, and it makes me wonder how you felt being over there with this realization. But I will not regret for you, I will always remember you with love and happy memories. I will be that happy person who does not regret. I am grateful that you were in my life.

R.I.P Lt. Travis Morgado, my friend

Love,

Nadia