Oral History- by Nooshin Ahmadi Khorasani
1 Ordeebehesht, 1378/ April 21, 1999 as part of an ongoing series of oral histories.
transl. MS

Khadijeh Moghadam, born in 1918, was a high school and grade school teacher, and was one of the earliest members of the Jam'eeat-e Nesvan-e Vatankhah Iran [Society of Patriotic Women], one of the first women's organizations in Iran.

NA - Can you tell us a bit about Mastureh Afshar [one of the most active members of Jam'eeat, she ran the organization, and spoke at the first International Women's Congress in Iran]?

KM - She was an educated woman and had traveled to Turkey and Russia. In Tehran, she opened the first adult education school for women to attend school.

NA - How old were you then?

KM - I was around 8 years old. I came from Maragheh [in the Russian section of Azarbaijan]- this I'll say quietly. We came from Maragheh, and I didn't know Farsi, and I hadn't attended school.

Ms. Afshar told me that she would take me to her school, and I'd be able to complete first and second grades in 6 months.

NA - Until what grade did they teach?

KM - There were classes from the first through fifth grades.

NA - How many women were in each class?

KM - About six or seven women. They were for older women generally.

NA - What kind of books did they teach from?

KM - I don't remember the books. They used the public school first and second grade textbooks. My older sister was placed in fifth grade because she had had some schooling already, and once we were caught up, we were placed in the Madresayeh Tarbeeat, where we continued our education.

NA - Did Ms. Afshar teach herself, or did she only administer?

KM - Oh no, she did not teach. She was the school principal.

NA - Where did Ms. Afshar study, and to what level?

KM - She had studied in Russia and Turkey, back when education was thorough and profound. She was originally from Rezayeh [present day Ooroomieh].

NA - Had she earned her diploma?

KM - I don't know if she did. But back then, issuing diplomas and degrees were not so widespread and common.

NA - Do you know how many languages she knew?

KM - She knew Farsi, Azari, Turkish, and Russian. These four languages I know of. I don't know if she knew anymore.

But she was a very pleasant and well-mannered woman, and she did a great deal for the Jam'eeat. As far as I know, she never married. She lived alone, and in the end, she died of breast cancer.

NA - Can you describe what kind of women went to the school when you were attending?

KM - Women from respectable and honorable families attended. However, they were not educated, that's why they were there.

NA - In what area of Tehran was the school?

KM - I don't remember. But Miss Afshar also ran the Jam'eeat-e Nesvan-e Vatankhah [Society of Patriotic Women], and a lot of women attended their programs there.

NA - What were some of their activities?

KM - They tried to improve women's lives. They would prepare them, and teach them the necessary knowledge required for a woman in those times. Teachers from the Madresayeh Tarbeeat would give talks and speak about women of today. They lectured on what women need to do to progress so they wouldn't be left behind, urged them to become learned and to read. I was there too.

Ms. Noor-ol-hodah Manganeh [one of the founders of Jam'eeat- Nesvan] spoke there. She spoke in Turkish and a Mr. Orang came along that day to translate into Farsi for the women in attendance.

Ms. Afshar was present during those lectures. She came to support these programs. She did a lot of work in forging new paths. After her, I think, Ms. Tarbeeat and Ms. Sedighe Dolatabadi worked there.

NA - What recollections do you have from Ms. Dolatabadi?

KM - Nothing.

NA - What about the other women?

KM - I only remember Ms.Tarbeeat because she worked in the municipality. I would see her once in a while.

NA - What was her first name?

KM - Hajar, Hajar-e Tarbeeat. She was alive until 10 or 12 years ago. She would I don't know if I should say this. But, she would go to the women's hospital with Farah [the Shah's wife] and Farah's mother on mother's day, and they would donate clothes for infants. When I was a teacher at Iran High School, I did the same thing. We would sew infant clothing and on behalf of the school, we would donate them to the hospital on mother's day. I was responsible for donating 800 sets of clothes. Miss Tarbeeat and Farah would come as well.

NA - So, in the third grade, you went to Madresayeh Tarbeeat. Do you remember where this school was?

KM - It was in Amirieh, near the military medical center.

NA - Do you remember the teachers from the school?

KM - There was Miss Shiva, Miss Mastureh Haghighi, Rohangees Khanoum, and an American named Miss Sharp.

NA - Do you remember Rohangees Khanoum's last name?

KM - Um, I can't think of it (whispering) well, you know she was Bahaii. (louder) Anyway, they were good teachers, and they were very organized.

NA - Through what grade did the Madresayeh Tarbeeat offer classes?

KM - Through high school. My sister earned her diploma there, but I studied only until the 9th grade.

Miss Shamsol-Malouk-e Mosahab taught there. I was her student.

NA - What kind of teacher was Ms. Shamsol-Malouk-e Mosahab?

KM - She was serious with her students. She was basically a pretty serious person. I was a good obedient student. But one day, when I laughed in class, she became very angry with me and yelled at me. Right then and there, I wished to God, that one day, I would be a teacher and that I would work in the same place as her. And sure enough, years later, we worked together in two different high schools. I was a teacher, and she was the principal.

NA - What classes did she teach?

KM - Basically everything- all the different subjects.

NA - Did the teachers like Ms. Mosahab, teach from their own texts?

KM - No.

But our school offered sports as well. We had morning exercises. They had a gramophone and would play records, and Miss Sharp would lead the exercises. Afterwards, we'd have prayer, and then we'd attend class.

NA - Did you go to school wearing a chador?

KM - Yes, everybody wore a chador. Once we got to school, we would take our chadors off. We could wear whatever we wanted underneath. We didn't have uniforms. My father only allowed us to wear a black pleated skirt with a blouse. I finished two years of schooling in a year. I went through 9th grade, and then I left school.

NA - Why?

KM - We moved away from the school. We lived in Amirieh before, then we moved just behind Masjed Sepah Salar, because my father was a Majles representative. Then my parents enrolled me in an American high school near our house. Since I didn't know English, it was very difficult for me and I didn't do well. When we moved again, I left the American school and never returned to high school.

But my older sister, Malak Taj, had already earned her high school diploma at Madresayeh Tarbeeat, and later she enrolled in college and majored in philosophy and literature.

I later enrolled in a technical school, Honarestan-e Banoovan [Women's Technical School] and I earned a diploma, and then I went on to become a teacher.

NA - You earned a technical school diploma?

KM - Well, it was equivalent to a high school diploma.

NA - Where was it?

KM - Around Shahabat St.

NA - How long did it take?

KM - The program was supposed to take three years, but I finished in two.

Monsieur Homabarssan spoke to the principal, Khanoum Eftal Malouk-Khaje-Nouri.

NA - How many years had the technical school been established?

KM - It wasn't new, it had been around for some time. It was a sewing and painting technical school, but there were other general courses, such as physical education.

NA - Was the technical school public?

KM - As far as I know, but I'm not sure. My father may have paid tuition, but I wouldn't know.

NA - So your father didn't object to his daughters' education?

KM - He was ok with it to a certain point. He believed that girls should study until 8th or 9th grade, and then they should learn other languages, how to play piano, things like that.

But later, with the coming of technical schools, he agreed to enroll us there. But my sister was only interested in continuing her academic education and when the universities were opened to women, my sister applied and was accepted, and studied philosophy and literature. In 1925, when the University of Tehran opened its doors to women, my sister was one of the first to attend.

NA - Is she still alive?

KM - No.

She earned her bachelor's degree, and became a teacher, and taught for years. She never married.

In Tehran, her last teaching job was at Anoosheeravan-e Dadgar Highschool .

NA - What other classes did Jam'eeat-e Nesvan offer other than adult education classes?

KM - There were literacy classes to provide a basic foundation for women.

NA - Did you have speakers come to your classes?

KM - Not at the classes, but the organization held various talks, once a week, in people's homes.

NA - Did men participate?

KM - Men, no! There was only that one time when Mr. Orang came to translate. Normally, they didn't participate, absolutely not. In these organizations, we were without chadors.

NA - How did you get a teaching job? Did you have to take an exam?

KM - No, back then, there were no employment tests or anything like that. Mr. Shams, he was Azarbaijani, was the head of the department of education. His sister-in-law was my classmate at the Tarbeeat School. One day when she was over at our house, my sister and I asked, practically pleaded, her to tell Mr. Shams that we wanted to teach. We hadn't gotten permission from our father. Our father didn't want us to teach, he wouldn't allow it. You know how fathers from the old days were. They didn't like these ideas much.

One day, we got a phone call from the education department are you taping?

NA - Yes.

KM - They called and told us come to the office and sign a teaching contract. You've been hired, they said. Back then, teaching jobs were on a contractual basis.

We went and did it. But my father, when he found out, got very upset. He decided that my older sister could teach, but he didn't want me to teach. For four months, he stayed upset with me for signing the contract without his consent.

NA - Why did he accept your sister teaching, but not you?

KM - Because I was younger. I was the youngest girl of the family, and he wasn't comfortable with the idea very much.

NA - How old were you?

KM - I was around 17 or 18.

NA - What happened after those four months?

KM - Well, we made up! And I went off to become a teacher.

NA - Do you remember the nature of your contract? How long was your contract for?

KM - It was for a year.

NA - How much did you earn?

KM - To tell you the truth, I don't remember. Maybe around 200 or 300 tomans. In those days, there wasn't much of a salary to speak of. Every year we had to renew our contract. They treated us very well. I think because it wasn't very common for people from our social class to teach. You know, we weren't wealthy, but my father was a representative in the Majles.

When I first began teaching, I was pretty terrified. This was all very new for me, and when the assistant principal took me to my class, I was completely frozen. The class was divided into two separate sections of boys and girls. The girls were taught sewing, which I knew how to do, and the boys were taught carpentry, which I didn't. However, it was written in my contract that I was to teach carpentry, sewing, and gardening. I couldn't do carpentry, but I didn't want to admit to it. So, I would walk throughout the class, and when a student would call me to complain about a fellow classmate who took his saw for example, I would go over and while straightening out the situation, I would take a good look at the saw so I would learn what it was exactly. This was the way I learned all the tools in carpentry, one by one.

NA - What grade were the school children in?

KM - They were in fourth and fifth grade.

NA - And you taught gardening to boys or girls?

KM - To the boys. Gardening, I had to learn as well. Anything in my contract that I didn't know, I learned.

Eventually I was transferred to another school. The superintendent, Dr. Jazayeree, came to the school and saw my work, and he transferred me to the Efagh School. Moneeray-e Afkhami, the sister of Timsar Afkhami, was the principal there. She was very good to me. She knew me because our families were friends.

NA - There were only girls in this school?

KM - Yes, only girls. We were not mixed at the high school level. The other school was a grade school, fourth and fifth grade. We wore a chador, we were all with hejab.

When it was time for the emtehan-e nahayee [nation-wide exam that all high school students take in their last year to earn their diplomas] and the exams were graded, and the scores issued, all my students got 20. Nobody knew the names of the students or from schools they were, because it was concealed until after the exams were graded. But when they looked at the names, they saw that all of my students earned 20.

Afterwards, I was immediately transferred to Shahdokht High School to teach there.

When I arrived, the principal, Badr-e Malouk-e Bamdad took one look at me, and went to Dr. Jazayeree and told him that I was practically the same age as the10th and 11th grade students. Why did you send her here?, she said. How am I supposed to administer her?

You know, Shahdokht was a very big school, and she thought that I was much too young to be handle it.

But Dr. Jazayereh told her that he knew me and that I could handle myself just fine. And I have to say, Ms. Bamdad really did a great job with me. And I learned a lot, and she guided me a great deal.

Unfortunately, it was during my tenure at this school that I got married. After the second year of teaching, my husband did not let me teach anymore.

NA - What was your husband's name?

KM - Oh, he was just some officer in the military, forget about it. It's not important. It's been years that I've been divorced from him.

When Ms. Bamdad find out, she was very upset. She really wanted me to continue teaching. She told me to tell my husband, just one day a week, an hour a day, from 10-11 am. She would even provide my lunch for me. But he wouldn't accept it. In the end, he didn't let me teach there anymore.

NA - Why did you get married? Did you want to get married, or did your father and family decide that it was time?

KM - It was my father and mother of course. You know, ultimately, all parents want their daughters to get married.

NA - Did you want to get married?

KM - On the surface, I acted like it, because I didn't really have a choice. You know, there were three girls in the family who were married off, and all of the marriages turned out badly. My father decided for us. No, I wasn't happy about it.

NA - What was your father's name?

KM - Eskandar-e Moghadam. He was given the title of Sardaar Nasser. My father was the MP of Maragheh.

So I went back to teaching grade school at Parveen-e E'tesami school. Grade school was ok with my husband. During this time, I became pregnant, and I wanted to have an abortion. I had been married for 8 months. I had an operation.

NA - They performed surgery for abortions back then?

KM - No, after the abortion, I got an infection and I ran a fever. For two months, the doctors didn't know what was going on. There were four doctors who were treating me. Four well-known doctors, Drs. A'lah, Adeeb, Mossadegh, Prof. Adl, operated on me, but they didn't did a good job. And in the end, they took out my ovaries, but left my uterus. At the start of my youth, this happened. I could no longer have children. And since then, I have been taking pills, until this day.

And for years, I have gotten sick on and off. This is what was left for me.

In any case, my life took unexpected turns. After I got well, my husband was transferred to Tabriz, but I didn't teach there. After we were transferred back to Tehran, I went to the board of education in search for a job. It wasn't like now, they respected people, and they hired me immediately. Then we were transferred again- this time to Kurdestan. I stopped teaching again while I was there. We were there for about a year and a half.

NA - What was the situation of women like over there? Were they attending school?

KM - Oh. The first time I was there, there wasn't much going on. But I wasn't really aware of the people's educational status. Those of us who were transferred from other areas and who worked for the state pretty much kept to ourselves. We were our own group, and we stuck together.

NA - So you didn't have any relations with the people?

KM - No, not much. There were some from the Sannandaj family, with whom I still have contact. Some of them send their boys to school, but not their girls. The third time we were transferred to Rezayeh, in 1946. You know, it was very advanced, in terms of education. There was a high school and a grade school for girls. There was a Jam'eeat-e Sheer-o Khorsheed-e Sorkh-e Iran [The Red Lion and Sun of Iran- Iranian equivalent of the Red Cross] The military base was transferred from Kurdestan to Rezayeh. So, we had to go with the military. I taught at the high school there. And then we returned to Tehran after two years. We never stayed in one place very long.

NA - What was it like? The girls were without hejab then?

KM - Yes. By then the hejab was gone. We were all without hejab- the teachers and the students. The Shah came to Azarbaijan when we were there [During this period, Azarbaiijani leftists sympathetic to, and backed by, the Soviet Union, form a separate government in Azarbaiijan. After pressure from other members of the Allied forces, Soviets withdraw their support, and the government collapses. The Iranian military takes over and the movement is crushed]. And after a lot of reshuffling within the hierarchy of the military where various officers were relieved of their posts and replaced with others, eventually, my husband was dismissed as well, and we went back to Tehran.

When we went back to Kurdestan in 1949, conditions had improved a great deal. The head of education was Mr. Akbarnia, and he said to me, "I leave the school in your hands." The name of the high school was Masturayeh Ardalan. There were some rich girls who attended the school and they came all dressed up. Gold and silver jewelry, fancy clothes, long and painted fingernails. And one by one, I started to address these problems.

NA - Were these girls Kurdish?

KM - Most of them were, and others were the daughters of government officials assigned to Kurdestan. All the teachers and administrative staff were men, but all the students were girls. And I was the only female teacher. I taught sewing and homemaking.

Mr. Akbarnia told me that if any student, including his own daughter misbehaved or acted inappropriately, I could expel them from school. And he said that I was in charge of the teachers as well. If any of them acted inappropriately or didn't do their job properly, I was to report to Mr. Akbarnia.

So I did. Unbeknownst to the others, I would spy on the girls through the tinted windows on the door. I would report to Mr. Akbarnia, and then literally the next day, a notice of suspension or expulsion would come. Everyone was mystified as to how he knew about all the happenings at the school, but I wouldn't let on.

One day, I realized that I just couldn't manage these girls. They were out of my control. Their nails were still long, their hair long and loose all over. It was time to take drastic measures. So, I took two pairs of scissors- one for hair and the other for fingernails- bottles of alcohol and acetone, some cotton balls, and I went to the classes. I told the students that they had a week to get their acts straight. If their hair wasn't clean- you see in Kurdestan there was a great deal of lice- they wore beautiful clothes, they had nice jewelry, but their hair was infested with lice. I don't know why. Anyway, if their hair wasn't clean, I warned, I would chop everyone's off.

These two sisters who immediately promised to comply, later came to me privately, and asked me to cut their hair. When I asked why, they said they didn't have a mother and that I was their mother. I resisted and told them to clean their hair. But they insisted that I cut their hair so they would be able to clean it afterwards. I always felt bad about that incident, because I was a pretty stern teacher.

After we were transferred back to Tehran, the superintendent, Mr. Meshkati, told me that there were no teaching vacancies at the high school level at the time, so I was sent to a grade school- Ferdowsi Grade School- which Reza Shah had built. He had built four grade schools, all modeled after Western schools. I think that he should be given credit for his accomplishments. The truth should be acknowledged. Anyway, there was Nezami School on Sepah Street, and another one on Italia Street, but I don't remember the name.

NA - Were the girls and boys mixed?

KM - The school was mixed, but the classes were separate. There was a really big yard, and the girls and boys lined up on different sides, and they had separate principals, one woman and one man. The boys' dean was a shahzadeh [means prince- in this case, refers to descendant of the Qajar dynasty]

Dr. Azar, the Minister of Culture, he was a bit of a Tudeh, a bit of a communist during the 50's.

NA - Before the coup d'eta of 28th of Mordad [the CIA sponsored 1953 coup d'etat, during which Prime MinisterMohammad Mossadegh is removed from office and the Shah returned to power]?

KM - Yes, I wasn't in Tehran during the coup.

At Ferdowsi, there was a female teacher who was doing propaganda for the Tudeh Party. She was in the same group as Dr. Azar. She would talk about this stuff in class to the students.

There was a period where the girls did not have their own principal, and for a couple of months, the boys' principal administered both groups. I remember that he was a shahzadeh, but I can't remember his name. He called that teacher over during the daily morning line-ups, and said, "Miss, from this moment on, you are no longer a teacher. Go mind your business." He did this right in front of everybody.

Afterwards, I went over to the man, and asked

NA - Why.

KM - what about me? What's my status? We were both sewing teachers, you see. It's all up to you, he said. If you leave, the whole school will fall apart.

That woman went to Dr. Azar who wrote a letter to the school, stating that I should be transferred to another school and that the other woman should return to her teaching post. I went to complain, and was told that since the order came from the minister's own handwriting, there was nothing that could be done.

NA - You never had children? Did you ever consider adopting?

KM - After my ovaries were removed, I had several opportunities to adopt a child, but my husband wouldn't allow it. He had a really bad attitude, complaining about raising some child off the streets. After a while, I realized that he wouldn't be a good father anyway. And later on, several years after my divorce, when I was finally independent and on my own, I thought that I was too old to adopt. I concerned that when I died, that child's fate would be in jeopardy, because I saw how adopted children were treated.

After my divorce, for twelve years, I lived with my brothers and sister, because it wasn't acceptable for a woman in her late twenties to live alone. By the time I reached my mid-forties, I finally dared to purchase my own place.

NA - Why didn't you adopt right after your divorce?

KM - How could I have brought some other person's child in a home that was not my own? My sister was grown up, not married, my brothers hadn't reached adulthood yet They could have gotten upset or something. These were real concerns and realities for me.

After those twelve years, I rented my own apartment and lived on my own. I rented my own place for several years, and then I bought my own land, on which I had a home built, but I never moved in there, because my sister wouldn't come with me. And a woman living in a house all by herself, well, it was a bit difficult. So I sold that land, and bought a home in Amir Abad, with two units. I lived on the top one. I was very comfortable there.

NA - How did you afford it?

KM - With my salary and the bit of inheritance that I received. Eventually I sold the building, because things changed after the revolution. In the beginning days of the revolution, I had a group of tenants who gave me a really hard time. They were drug users, addicts. They were always smoking opium. I had always had tenants downstairs- when my niece lived downstairs, it was really great. But when these drug users came, it became very dangerous, and I was pretty scared. I was afraid that the boy would throw me down the stairs or something. Who knows? They were very shady people. So I was forced to sell the house even though I really liked that place. It was very unfortunate. But I got a pretty good price for it.

And then I found this place. This place had just been built and was very clean. Three or four women that I knew had already bought units here, and they encouraged me to do so as well. Once I saw that they weren't the type to take off their shoes at the door and so on, and they all had families, I decided to buy as well.

NA - When did you retire from teaching?

KM - In 1981. I knew my salary would no longer increase and my position wouldn't be promoted, so I retired a year or two early. I was glad to. I had taught for 28 years, I was tired and bored with the whole thing.

The principal, Ms. Jahanbani, didn't know that I had retired. When I brought my retirement notice to school, she was pretty upset, and asked me why I retired without telling her. She suggested that I teach at her private school, Iran High School, on an hourly basis. That's where I was when the revolutionary fervor increased. And things started changing. I was at other private schools on an hourly basis as well.

She sold her Iran High School to the state. She also had three grade schools. After Ms. Jahanbani was arrested after the revolution, one of the teachers ran the schools and then another principal came to run the schools. But the teachers continued teaching, as did I.

You know, we were right in the thick of the revolution, and things were becoming increasingly difficult and chaotic. The principal would get called in for questioning. Authorities would come into the school, and one day, Ms. Jahanbani's husband, who was blind, fell down the stairs.

NA - Why did they arrest Ms. Jahanbani if she was just a principal?

KM - Well she was related to the royal family by marriage. She hung out in those circles.

After she was released, she died in her home shortly thereafter. She was a great lady- very organized and disciplined, she did great work, and was very involved. For example, once a year, we would go to the hospital with the Farah to donate clothes on behalf of the school. I don't deny it.

NA - Was there a teachers' association back then?

KM - No, not the way that you think.

NA - Did you participate in any other women's organizations?

KM - No, just with Jam'eeat, in the early years. I didn't have time to involve myself in women's organizations.

NA - How about with Badr-al Malouk-e Bamdad?

KM - She asked me to attend her meetings after I left Jam'eeat. And I would go, and they were really good.

NA - What did they talk about?

KM - They talked about women's issues- like women should be Muslim and increase their knowledge and understanding.

NA - What did you do there?

KM - Nothing.

NA - Do you remember that she published and edited a newspaper?

KM - She even wrote a book.

NA - Did you ever write in the paper?

KM - No, nothing, never, not at all. But we read her books in our high school classes. About homemaking and other things.

NA - How about Sedigheh Dolatabadi's book, she wrote one

KM - We didn't read that book. We didn't have anything to do with her.

But Ms. Bamdad was really a great lady. She was a wonderful person. She ran the school very well, and later, she did a great job at the Anjoman.

NA - What do you remember about kashf-e hejab [the forcible removal of the veil, mandated by Reza Shah in 1936]?

KM - I was still living in my father's home. I was around 17 or 18 years old. I was finished with the technical school. I was in my first year of teaching.

NA - During the kashf-e hejab, how did the people respond?

KM - What people?

NA - Ordinary people. Women, girls, other members of the family.

KM - Some were upset, but it was out of their control. They had no say in the matter.

NA - Was your father upset when you took off your hejab?

KM - My father, when they announced on the 17th of Dey [the 10th month in the Persian calendar] that women had to take off their hejab Let me say this. On the opening of the Majles, the prime minister came with his cabinet, and they were all wearing chapeaus. My father came home that day and said when the prime minister and his cabinet members come wearing chapeaus, that means something is up. Something is surely to follow because a man with a chapeau will not walk down the street with a wife in a chador.

Eventually, the 17th of Dey came, and whenever my father had to take someone to events, he would take me. I was the youngest and the obvious choice. Two of my sisters were married in Maragheh, and my other sister was college educated, and was traveling a lot, and very independent, and she wouldn't accept anything my father told her anyway. These kind of obligations were not interesting or desirable to her. I, on the other hand, loved these parties, and would stay up all night to sew a dress for the upcoming party the next day.

My father figured that he had gotten around the problem of taking his wife by taking me instead. It was difficult for him and for my mother. During the kashf-e hejab, my mother wouldn't leave the house. It was hard for her to take off her hejab.

Then, one day, there was an invitation for a Majles party and this one specifically invited the wives to the party.

NA - How did you feel about the kashf-e hejab in general?

KM - I don't remember much. Most probably, I liked it. You know after years of wearing a black chador it was fun.

NA - So what happened with that party?

KM - Yes, the invitation stated only the wives could attend. And this was very difficult for my mother. And my father didn't like this idea much either. He was a respected and conservative man from a small city. We had the kind of life in Maragheh where my father protected and shielded his daughters from the outside- from the people in the streets. You know we were pretty isolated and sheltered. We lived in a house with a large garden in the countryside and in those days, respectable girls didn't go out in public much.

So, he was definitely worried about our honor and chastity. But he really didn't have a choice. The young people liked the kashf-e hejab, but my father wasn't thrilled with the idea.

Anyway, the night of the party, it was winter so it was pretty cold. My mother wore a black coat with lots of fur trimmings all over, and a hat. She kept them on during the entire party. She sat through the entire party like that. Well, she had sweat so much that by the time she got home and took everything off, she had caught pneumonia and had to be bed-ridden for 40 days.

NA - Did the people object or protest to kashf-e hejab?

KM - No, they didn't. How could they? Individuals couldn't take on this matter alone.

NA - After that, did your mother go out?

KM - Yes, she did. But always with a manteau and a hat. But she didn't go to formal parties with my father anymore. He pretty much always went with me. Weddings, the 24th of Esfand celebrations [Reza Shah's birthday], engagement parties, etc. I went with him.

NA - Your father didn't mind taking you out without a hejab?

KM - He didn't really have a choice. And I was young, and I had no husband, and the other daughters were married. But he really didn't care that much about me not wearing the hejab. And I loved it. I loved the opportunity to go out, walk down the streets, etc.

NA - Your other sister, the older one who was unmarried, did she have differences with your father?

KM - Yes, they saw things very differently. But my father didn't tell her what to do much. She was the eldest daughter, she never married He would tell me what to do, but not her.

NA - Did he want her to get married?

KM - Sure he did, and she had suitors coming all the time. He had some criticism for each of his daughters. But she was very educated. She knew all the poems of Hafez, Sa'di, and Ferdowsi she knew them all. She was that type. She was far more educated and learned than me. In many ways, I was the least learned of the girls.

NA - Did your sister write any books?

KM - No, but after her death, my brother donated all her books and established a library in the family name in Maragheh.

NA - So, it was to your benefit that your family came to Tehran. Things were much more restricted in Maragheh. You couldn't go to school there?

KM - Absolutely. School, social relations, are you kidding me? We hadn't even seen a street, much less go to school and establish social relations with the outside.

NA - How about your mother? Was she influential in your life?

KM - Only in the house. Not outside. She had no say about the outside.

NA - Was she literate?

KM - Yes, she could read and write. She was educated in the old style. She read the Quran, other books in Farsi, you know to the extent that girls were educated in the old days. Her father was a shahzadeh.

Our public and private lives were very separate. Our private quarters were separate from the public quarters, where guests were received, and the like. Our bedrooms were removed and hidden from public view. In Tehran, until my father died, we had that kind of lifestyle as well. The servants never came to the private quarters. The servant quarters and the guest quarters, which were for the men, were totally separate.

Can you believe that I never saw my brothers-in-law, and that my mother didn't see her sons-in-law? My father was like that.

NA - Then what made him give you permission to attend school and teach?

KM - Well at that point, the times were changing. We were changing and we had different expectations. We pushed for them.

NA - How many kids were in the household?

KM - My mother had 12 children, but one girl and two boys died. Four girls and four brothers were left. After me, she delivered 3 boys. All my sisters have passed away, and I have one brother left. But my sisters' kids take care of me when I need it. There are many teachers in the family- my brothers, my sister, my nieces and nephews.

NA - How about your two sisters who stayed in Maragheh?

KM - They didn't work. They stayed home.

The school in Kurdestan all the teachers and staff were men, and all the students were girls. And they were at the high school level, so all these girls at 16 and 17, you know, they were becoming women. They weren't such girls anymore. The superintendent told me that I was in charge, and I could do whatever I wanted.

Well, I took one look at these girls running around in physical education class with their young male PE teachers, and I knew that something had to change. It wasn't proper for these girls to be running around in skirts and so on. I brought a tailor in, and ordered that all girls had to wear black pants and white shirts, with their names stitched on their pockets.

Sometimes, even I would play with the girls- like in the snow. I wanted them to have fun, run around, to be young and carefree. But I also felt that they should learn how to behave with men. You know, because girls from Kurdestan still hadn't learned how to interact with men. They hadn't had a lot of exposure. They were different from girls who grew up in Tehran. And here they were, in this school, where all the teachers were men. So I had to be careful. If I was even remotely suspicious of a teacher's intentions, he would be out that very day.

I was a member of the Lyons Association.

They published magazines- medical/health magazines, lifestyle magazines, etc. I would go and listen, and participate. Members paid their dues. It was like one big party, we'd have dinner together. It was fun, and I liked to socialize and meet people. Don't look at me now, sitting here. I'm sick now and don't do much. When I was young, I went out all the time.

I went on many vacations. I traveled throughout South Africa. I went to Tel Aviv. I flew from Johannesburg because planes didn't fly to Israel from Iran. I went with these group tours. And they were very cheap. 20 days for 20 thousand tomans.

NA - How about America?

KM - I signed up for America, but then the revolution happened. So I never got to go. But I've been to Europe lots of times. I've been to London three times, Spain three times.

NA - Just for vacation purposes?

KM - Yes. I went to India too.

I became a member of Hezb-e Iran. I was in the 24th branch. I only involved myself in women's activities. We would hold discussions. They didn't really go anywhere. But that's another story. We would discuss divorce issues- for example, men and women should split the property and assets they had acquired during their marriage equally. After our discussions, the head of the office would write up a draft.

NA - Did you lobby the Majles?

KM - No, we had nothing to do with the Majles. We were an independent party. If other members went, I didn't know about it. We would discuss issues that were of importance to us, as women. That's why we attend these discussions.

NA - So the needs of women were reflected in these discussions. You wanted these issues to be on the agenda.

How many women were there?

KM - About 20 women. And we would take turns leading the discussion groups. We met once a month.

NA - Who was in charge of the branch?

KM - Miss Iranshehr.

NA - What other discussions do you have? What other issues did you discuss?

KM - Inflation and increase in food prices. I remember there was a period when beans and chickpeas got expensive. We discussed women's rights too.

NA - Did the group attempt to apply these discussions to any kind of activism?

KM - No, that wasn't our business. I think some women did, but I never did.

NA - Were there classes for women?

KM - Yes, homemaking classes, and things like that.

NA - How about protests and demonstrations?

KM - I never went myself although others did. I only sewed their clothes. I didn't like demonstrations.

Ms. Jahanbani knew. She would sign me up for different activities, but in the end, she would work it out so it didn't look bad if I didn't attend.

NA - Were you opposed to forms of protest?

KM - I just didn't like it, I never did. I always was avoiding this kind of work. But the cutting of the clothing patterns were my responsibility. And then other women would go and sew them. And the donating of infants clothing, I was responsible for. I would pack them and prepare them.

Whatever Ms. Jahanbani wanted, I would do. She really liked me. I worked the way she liked. We worked together a lot, she was great.

NA - What do you remember about Mossadegh's era?

KM - When Mossadegh came, the Shah left. I was in Maragheh at the time. My brother was the mayor, and he was pro-Mossadegh. The city was going crazy.

They put a picture of the Shah on a dog's face, and paraded the dog around. Then, when the Shah returned, they did the same to Mossadegh. I didn't really know who he was. I just remember that event.

NA - Was your brother thrown out of office after the Shah returned?

KM - Nobody knew of his political inclinations.

NA - Was he involved with the National Front?

KM - No, absolutely not! The youth were into it. They didn't do much. They liked to write their names on protest letters and petitions, whatever. They didn't really know what was going on themselves. Everybody was doing it, so they were too.

NA - What about you? What were your thoughts on the matter?

KM - Nothing.

NA - Nothing? It was a very tumultuous time. You had no opinion?

KM - I wasn't involved in this kind of stuff. And my brother who was pro-Mossadegh, well, he was young, and he thought

NA - But there were many schools where there were disruptions, where students were in support of Mossadegh. There was a girls' school in Tehran where there was a lot of activity.

KM - I personally never understood what the whole deal was. Why so much noise about Mossadegh? I was in Shahdokht, and then I went to Kurdestan. I still don't know what all the fuss was about. Why the kids didn't go to class, why they disrupted things I never understood.

NA - Weren't there discussions about it?

KM - No, people weren't allowed to talk about it publicly.

They kicked out Ms. Mosaheb, I don't know why. We used to visit Reza Shah's gravesite together.

I don't know what happened to her afterwards.

NA - When you spoke of the disruption that you witnessed, how long did it last? Was it just one day, or several days?

KM - I worked part-time, so I didn't see everything. The kids would come to the courtyard in the school, but they wouldn't go inside to attend class.

My niece was involved too. They all boycotted their classes and didn't do their homework. My niece said that she didn't do her homework when she was called in, but I knew that she had because she lived in my father's home, and I saw her work. But she wanted to ally herself, be one with the other students.

NA - Were the kids expelled?

KM - No, but the principal was removed.

NA - Why?

KM - I have no idea, I didn't understand those things.

I did so many things for my students, but nobody appreciates teachers. I used to stay up late night and look at the fashion magazines so I could teach them how to make suede belts and purses. But so what? What's the difference, they send me awards for being such a good teacher, but all I get is that 35 thousand toman a month, like everybody else. My salary never increased.

NA - When did you start driving?

KM - I drove for 12 years. I started 10 years before the revolution. I started late.

NA - You mean other women were driving already?

KM - Oh yes, all the teachers, principals were driving.

NA - What kind of car did you have?

KM - I bought a Paykan both times.

But I told my driving teacher that I didn't want my family to know that I was learning. Because I was embarrassed, the young kids in the family already knew how to drive.

NA - There were driving schools?

KM - Yes, I got my license.

NA - Did others on the street make cracks?

KM - I drove from then on, and I was very comfortable. Once the revolution happened, things got difficult with people. Young people would say, Look at the old lady driving!

NA - But not before the revolution?

KM - No, before the revolution, nobody bothered me. I would only drive until 9pm, after then, I wouldn't drive.

Whenever there was a man riding with me, I would let him sit behind the wheel because I didn't want him to feel insulted or belittled because you know, men in general are pretty conceited.

NA - Were there lots of people driving then?

KM - Oh, lots and lots of people. It was very widespread.

During Reza Shah's reign, people started driving.

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