In the Global Citizens stream of the Coordinated Arts program, we have begun to analyze the graphical autobiography “Persepolis”, by Marjane Satrapi.  The story is about the author’s experiences as a young girl living during the Iranian Revolution of 1979 and the Iranian-Iraqi War.  Satrapi has written “Persepolis” as neither a purely personal or historical tale; instead she chose to play with the duality of the two elements to demonstrate their inseparability.  As proven by the article we had previously read by educational scholar Farhat Shahzad, our environment and community play an enormous role in the way we learn and digest the world around us.  It is therefor no surprise that someone growing up in such a tumultuous environment as the Islamic Revolution would have a complex view of their national history and its relation to their personal growth.  Satrapi makes it very clear from the beginning of “Persepolis” that the events going on in her childhood are monumental, and brought about huge social change throughout an entire country.  As a child, she had to navigate through these social changes and digest the numerous ideological influences constantly surrounding her, including but not limited to her parents, relatives, school teachers and national leaders.  Taking this into account, it immediately becomes clear that it would be impossible to examine Satrapi’s personal growth without also examining the social or political factors present during her upbringing,

This has lead me to some fascinating questions about how we understand history.  Since the history of Iran has had such a profound and direct influence on the very character of Satrapi, how could she ever examine it objectively?  For her, history and memory are one in the same.  In my psychology 101 class, we learned how our minds do not preserve memories perfectly and slightly alter them every time they are remembered.  How is it possible then to accurately moments in history we have witnessed?  Can history only be objectively examined once memories of the events have been wiped from our collective consciousness?  If so, perhaps my generation will never grasp the full picture of the War on Terror and its ensuing conflicts with ISIS.  But at the same time, how is it possible to fully understand events you did not take part in? Wouldn’t those who stormed Juno Beach on D-Day be the most reliable sources on how it felt to be there?  I’m afraid I have not been able to come up with satisfying answers to these questions.  I have, however, gained a deeper appreciation for the juxtaposition Satrapi has presented in “Persepolis” between memory and history, and I am looking forward to further examining it with my classmates.