Unsolicited Op

After my parents fled the Islamic Regime in 1979, they found safe haven in Queens, New York. That’s where I was born. In a tiny apartment in Queens. My parents had nothing. Not money. Not connections. Not even the ability to speak English. Unlike Zohran Mamdani, I didn’t go to a fancy private school. I went to a NYC public school that was so crowded there weren’t enough desks for each student. Half the time I sat on the radiator in the back of the room and took notes on my lap. I rode the MTA bus home, while both my parents worked to put food on the table and rebuild their lives. And they did rebuild. Because in America, and only in America, capitalism gave them a real chance to start again. The people supporting Mamdani are just like him. A bunch of entitled rich kids who have no clue how lucky they are, and even less of a clue why they have been conditioned to hate America. They don’t know what it’s like to buy shoes two sizes too big so you don’t outgrow them before the end of the school year. To act as the translator for your parents at 6 years old. To claw your way from having nothing to achieving something. And today they celebrate, because they’re too dumb or radicalized or both to realize they’re falling for the same Islamist-Marxist lies that caused my parents to flee Iran in the first place. All to destroy a city that was once a hopeful refuge for millions of people who just wanted a better life. People like me and my family. What a sad, sad day. My heart is absolutely broken for NYC.