Embarrassed about what you should be proud of?

Have you ever been embarrassed about something you were later proud of? Or worse, proud of something you were later embarrassed of?

I hadn’t given it much thought until I found myself watching Jerry Seinfeld on the Youtubes once again.

His standup? No.

His TV show? Nu uh.

His movies? Nope.

His Duke University commencement speech? Now we’re talkin.

Apparently, some of the graduates stormed out in protest. Which makes total sense. Because those were the same kids who felt a duty to remind the teacher that they forgot to collect the homework.

But that’s not a can of worms worth opening.

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As expected, he had plenty of well-crafted jokes such as — “Maybe I’ll be able to find some use for this honorary degree your fine university has given me. Probably not. Like this ridiculous robe they have me wearing.”

But he snuck in an ever better crafted non-joke that’s lingered in my mind longer than this fly buzzing around my apartment — we’re embarrassed about the things we should be proud of and proud of the things we should be embarrassed about.

He didn’t elaborate too much so I’ll do the honors as is my wont.

Have you ever been embarrassed about something you were later proud of? Or vice versa?

Of course you have.

We all have.

At the age of 10, my dad was forced to flee Iran with my grandparents and uncle in the year of our Lord 1973, thanks to the benevolent new regime.

They ended up in a foreign city called Athens. Not Athens, Greece. Athens, Georgia.

Their plan was to return after things settled down.

50 years later and that still hasn’t happened.

So my dad started a new life. He married a lovely lady who I call Mom and they had me. Which makes me half Persian (like the rug).

I never thought much of this until that tragic day September 11, 2001.

All of a sudden, I became painfully embarrassed to have middle eastern roots.

None of the terrorists were Persian but that didn't matter. We all got lumped together.

Oh you’re middle eastern?

Terrorist!

Kill ‘em all!

I remember mom made dad shave his beard on September 12th for one simple reason — to look less “terroristy”.

I was only nine years old at the time and as far as I know, never had any terrorist tendencies.

But the mere mention of my name made the hairs stand up on people’s necks — Arman Hussein Khodadoost.

Yikes.

That just screams terrorist, doesn’t it?

I wished I could change my name to something less threatening. Perhaps John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.

For the next 20 years, I did everything I could to blend in.

I exchanged my soccer cleats for a baseball glove.

I exchanged delicious Persian tea and baklava for disgusting milk and apple pie.

I exchanged Farsi for a deep southern accent.

Basically, I did everything I could to drop my weirdness.

Something I’m now incredibly embarrassed to admit.

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My story isn’t unique.

You can probably think of countless examples from your own life where you were embarrassed about the things you should be proud of and proud of the things you should be embarrassed about.

Your roots.

Your experiences.

Your fascinations.

The things that make you you.

In other words, the good stuff.

But those are the exact things you should lean in to because that’s where the magic lies.

Your strange combination of traits, experiences and interests that make up your identity. That’s your calling card to help you stand out from the masses who are doing everything they can to fit in.

Hopefully it won’t take you 20+ years to figure that out like yours truly.

PS — Now I love watching people squirm when I tell them I’m half Persian.

Your thoughts? Criticisms? Complaints? Please leave a comment below.