The Life of a Young Politico: My Adventures as a Progressive Student Activist

By Shahab Moghadam

Shahab Moghadam is a student in Northern California who has been active in civic affairs since he was only ten years old, spending time on both Barack Obama Presidential Campaigns and with progressive candidates and causes from all across the United States. He has also spent much of the past decade hard at work on a leadership studies project for which he has conducted interviews with some of the world's leading luminaries in the fields of politics, business, and entertainment of the past sixty years, the initial results of which were published in ebook form in January 2012.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 6, 2013
• ISBN: 9781300714217

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The Life of a Young Politico: My Adventures as a Progressive Student Activist

The Life of a Young Politico:

My Adventures as a Progressive Student Activist

By Shahab Moghadam

Introduction

The story and events contained in the below pages are my attempt at interpreting what has been a truly remarkable set of experiences which I have had the tremendous good fortune to live through, some of whom were positive leaps forward and others of which were giant strides backward into the depths of doubt. However, throughout my life and my civic activism in particular, I have continued to adapt to changing circumstances and to possess the skill of perspective-taking which is so very crucial to living a life full of meaning. Thus, in the pages below, I will relate to the reader the true and no-holds-barred story of my long history of experiences in the civic world and as a student in 21st Century America in the hopes that my story will perhaps inspire others or at the very least provide the reader with a unique set of anecdotes.

My Family Background and early years

My story begins in Santa Clara, California on May 19, 1995, when I was born to a family of immigrants who had come to the United States in the aftermath of the bloody turmoil of the Iranian Revolution to seek a chance at a better life, and, in the case of my mother’s family, redemption in a society which their homeland had long modeled itself after.

My maternal grandfather had begun his life as the son of a prominent nobleman who had gained the trust of Reza Shah, the head of the newly established Pahlavi dynasty which ruled the ancient land of Persia, by using his legendary handwriting to churn out official documents issued by the new King to modernize his beloved land. As my grandfather grew into a strapping young man, he settled upon a career in the military as his profession, and after a Western-style military education at Tehran’s finest military academies, he joined the elite Imperial Guard which had come to represent the core of the Pahlavi dynasty’s military establishment.

By this time, Reza Shah had been ousted by the Russians and the British for what they claimed were his ties to Nazi Germany and replaced by his young son Mohammad Reza Shah, who would come to symbolize more than any other man 20th century Iran. My grandfather rose fast in the new regime to become one of the most influential figures in the Shah’s military machine, a career which culminated with his appointment as head of security for the elaborate ceremony at the ruins of Persepolis celebrating the 2,500th anniversary of the Persian Monarchy, which saw leaders from all over the world descend upon the sand-swept southern desert for the finest Persian meals on silverware flown from Paris for the occasion in tents made by some of Europe’s most famous designers.

After the ceremony ended without a hitch, my grandfather proceeded in his climb up the ranks by being appointed first Iran’s ambassador to CENTO, an American-backed attempt to unite the nations of the Middle East and South Asia against Communism, and then the head of the Iranian contingent to the international peace-keeping force sent to war-torn Vietnam after the American withdrawal. However, as with most extraordinary public service careers, my grandfather’s came to an end well before its time as Islamic radicals working hand in hand with communists set out to topple the Shah’s regime.

My grandmother, who