The BIPOC/ACCUTE First Person Interviews series is adapted from the CBC First Person series. It captures the stories and perspectives of “BIPOC” members of ACCUTE from different parts of Canada at different stages of their teaching, research, or graduate student careers. The interviews are presented in dialogue style to enable us to present participants’ stories and experiences in their own voices. We hope to encourage other BIPOC members of ACCUTE and future members to join the conversation. Please reach out to cezenwa@mun.ca or info.accute@gmail.com if you are interested in joining the First Person BIPOC/ACCUTE series. We hope you enjoy reading our members’ stories and we look forward to hearing from you.  — Chinelo Ezenwa, Member-at-large, BIPOC Caucus

Chinelo Ezenwa: Hi Mahdiyeh! I am Chinelo. I am an Assistant Professor in Black Atlantic Decolonial Literatures at Memorial University. It’s really nice to have you with me. I know that in addition to your research, you also have multiple teaching engagements; so, I really appreciate the time that you are generously giving to this conversation. Please, could you tell us a little bit about yourself, your work, and your research at Western University?

Mahdiyeh Ezzatikarami: Thank you for having me, Chinelo—it’s a pleasure to be here. My name is Mahdiyeh Ezzati, and I completed my PhD at Western University in 2022. Since then, I’ve been teaching Literature, Writing, and Communication courses at OCAD University and several colleges, including Fanshawe College, Seneca College, Conestoga College, and George Brown College. While managing teaching responsibilities across multiple institutions has been challenging, I’ve remained deeply committed to my research, which focuses on postcolonial studies and the literatures of diaspora. Currently, I am serving as a guest editor for the 2024 special issue of ESC (English Studies in Canada) journal. This issue, titled Iranian Literature in Diaspora: Re-Writing History or Writing a Nation in Exile, examines how Iranian diasporic literature helps define a hyphenated identity for Iranian communities abroad and explores its influence on other Muslim and non-Muslim diasporas.

A significant part of my research centers on Iranian Canadian literary works—an area that I’ve found to be largely overlooked in Canada’s literary landscape. This neglect underscores broader gaps in understanding diaspora narratives and the unique challenges tied to Iranian identity within postcolonial and diasporic contexts. During my PhD, I explored the intersection of diaspora studies and postcolonial theory through narratives written by Iranian Canadian authors. While these works contribute significantly to Canadian literature, they are often overshadowed by misconceptions about the Middle East. Iran, in particular, occupies a unique position in postcolonial studies. In my dissertation, Diaspora and Abjection of a Nowhere in Particular: Theorizing the Hyphen in Iranian-Canadian Narratives, I analyzed how Iranian Canadian authors construct hyphenated identities that represent the Iranian “imagined community” within Canada. My research shifts focus from American-centric discussions of Iranian diasporic literature to highlight how these writers resist orientalist frameworks and delve into themes of identity and cultural complexity. 

On a personal level, starting my PhD introduced me to terms like “woman of color” and “visible minority,” which were previously unfamiliar to me. Growing up in Iran, I, like many others, held the misconception that Iranians were part of the “Aryan race” and thus white. Neda Maghbouleh’s The Limits of Whiteness: Iranian Americans and the Everyday Politics of Race examines this misconception, detailing how Iranians, despite their self-perception, often face racialization in Western contexts. Similarly, John Tehranian’s Whitewashed: America’s Invisible Middle Eastern Minority explores the selective racialization of Middle Eastern identities, where individuals may be celebrated as white in positive contexts but racialized as Middle Eastern during negative events. These dynamics inform my research, which amplifies the voices of Iranian Canadian authors and challenges reductive interpretations. Rather than rewriting Iran’s history, these authors construct nuanced, hyphenated identities for the Iranian diaspora in Canada. By moving beyond stereotypes and orientalist perspectives, my work contributes to a richer understanding of Iranian Canadian narratives within Canada’s literary and cultural landscape.

Chinelo Ezenwa: I am not familiar with Iranian scholarship, a shame, considering the number of Iranian colleagues and friends that I have. But I would say that your thesis will certainly fill a very important niche. Thanks also for mentioning Maghbouleh’s The Limits of Whiteness and Tehranian’s Whitewashed. I’ll certainly look out for them. Outside of my research interests, I am also often grappling with the meaning and implications of using labels like “person of colour,” racialized, and even Black. They honestly sometimes don’t seem to be part of who I am or where I come from. And that was one of the reasons that I thought it would be useful for those of us who are designated as “BIPOC ACCUTE” to discuss the term “BIPOC.” Is it an identity you would normally assume? And what does it mean, from your perspective, to be BIPOC within ACCUTE. 

Mahdiyeh Ezzatikarami: I vividly remember the first time ACCUTE held a BIPOC meeting. I was attending another panel and couldn’t make it to the meeting, but as soon as the panel ended, I rushed to the room where it was being held. I asked the facilitator one question: “What does BIPOC mean? Does it include me?”

I mustered all my courage to ask that question because I felt unsure—I worried I might be “otherizing” myself, the facilitator, or both of us. At the time, I was in the early years of my PhD and hadn’t yet grappled with the idea that my skin color might matter. In Iran, we rarely focus on skin color, as the country isn’t a prominent destination for immigrants and is not particularly immigrant-friendly.

The facilitator looked at me, assessed my skin color, and confidently said, “Yes.” His response brought mixed emotions—I felt both happy and sad. I was happy to feel included in a community but saddened by the realization that I was “different.”

When I asked why BIPOC doesn’t explicitly include people like me, the facilitator asked for clarification. I explained that BIPOC stands for Black, Indigenous, and People of Color. As I mentioned earlier, the term “people of color” was new to me, and learning its connotations was transformative. For days, I looked at myself in the mirror, reflecting on what it meant to be a person of color and what “color” I represented.

To me, being BIPOC is a complex realization—it’s about recognizing that you are “othered” while finding solidarity in a community that shares similar experiences. For people from countries like Iran, this realization can be particularly challenging. Many Iranians perceive themselves as white, given the country’s unique perception of race and identity.

Whether I assume a BIPOC identity depends on the situation. In academic settings, I don’t feel the need to emphasize specific identities to contribute meaningfully to discussions. However, I do identify as a member of the BIPOC community and often incorporate my identity into my research and teaching.

Being part of BIPOC-ACCUTE has been incredibly rewarding. It provides a space where scholars and researchers can share experiences, support one another, and find camaraderie in academia. When challenges arise, we know we have a community that understands and stands by us. BIPOC- ACCUTE is more than just a professional network—it’s a space where scholars find reassurance that their struggles are not unique and that they’re never alone.

Chinelo Ezenwa: I appreciate your sharing that experience, Mahdiyeh. For me, it’s an important reminder not to impose that identity or any other on people. Because of similar encounters that people have shared with me in the course of my work as “BIPOC” representative within ACCUTE, I have started to wonder if it would be useful for us to discuss the term during the 2025 ACCUTE conference, to have it on our agenda for the BIPOC Caucus meeting. 

Mahdiyeh Ezzatikarami: Absolutely, Chinelo, it would be not only useful but also timely to critically examine and challenge the term “BIPOC.” The language we use to define ourselves carries significant weight, and while the term has served as a unifying shorthand in some contexts, it risks oversimplifying the rich diversity and complexity of identities it seeks to encompass. At the same time, there’s a pressing need to increase awareness of the ACCUTE-BIPOC Caucus itself. Its limited visibility and engagement suggest we must rethink its structure and purpose to ensure it becomes a more dynamic and impactful platform.

Also, ACCUTE-BIPOC meetings should offer actionable strategies for academic success, such as balancing teaching, research, and personal well-being, while addressing systemic challenges. More importantly, we need language that positions us not just as “people of color” or “visible minorities,” but as academics and scholars with unique contributions to offer. By evolving these discussions, we can foster a more inclusive and supportive academic environment.

Chinelo Ezenwa: Absolutely. Thank you for those wonderful ideas, Mahdiyeh. My next question is somewhat related to our discussion surrounding what it means to be BIPOC within ACCUTE. From a general sense, what would you say has been ACCUTE’s biggest contribution(s)? And from a “BIPOC” perspective, if you could pick one area of focus for ACCUTE to work on, what would it be?

Mahdiyeh Ezzatikarami: ACCUTE serves as an invaluable platform for graduate students and emerging scholars to present their research, engage with peers, and connect with other academics. I believe ACCUTE has immense potential to support the success of BIPOC scholars. However, it is not enough to simply designate spaces or allocate financial resources to BIPOC scholars and researchers. What is truly required is comprehensive support to help young and emerging scholars navigate the Canadian job market and publishing industry. Networking within the Canadian academic system is particularly challenging for BIPOC scholars, and providing structured mentorship, guidance, and access to professional opportunities could make a significant difference.

Chinelo Ezenwa: The point about structured mentorship, guidance, and access to opportunities is very well received, and I hope that by our next general meeting during the conference in 2025, we would have made some significant contributions towards creating that type of network(s) for members.

Now, we’ll take one of what I called our fun questions. What’s the most fun and/or the most critically relevant (“BIPOC”) book/movie you have read/seen recently?

Mahdiyeh Ezzatikarami: One of the most intriguing books I’ve read recently is Mohsin Hamid’s The Last White Man. The novel portrays a world where a mysterious phenomenon causes white people to turn brown, one by one, triggering chaos and violence throughout the town. It compellingly illustrates how race is fundamentally a social construct.

Chinelo Ezenwa: What an intriguing title. I wonder what “white” and “brown” mean in the novel or what it means to turn “brown” within that context or even to be “the last white man.”

Mahdiyeh Ezzatikarami: That’s a very thoughtful question, and it’s not an easy one to address. Let me try to answer by incorporating some direct quotes from Hamid’s novel to ensure I capture his intentions accurately. The story revolves around Anders and Oona, who find themselves turning brown as their entire town progressively darkens. It begins with Anders, a white man, waking up one morning to discover he has “turned a deep and undeniable brown.” His initial reaction is one of fear and isolation. He’s scared to step outside, and when his boss sees him, he remarks that he would have killed himself if he were in Anders’ position. Through this narrative, Hamid [the author] introduces us not only to Anders and Oona but also to their families. What’s fascinating is that Hamid’s purpose is not to define concepts like “white” or “brown.” Instead, he uses the story to explore the fragility of race and skin color as constructs. The “last white man” in the novel is Anders’ father, who dies before undergoing the transformation. Initially, he looks down on Anders after his color changes, but his looming death serves as a bridge to bring Anders and Oona closer. Hamid beautifully illustrates the fragility of race and identity. 

Chinelo Ezenwa: The book will definitely go on my “to read” list; thanks for mentioning it and for offering that critical summary. I also appreciate your joining us today. In closing, would you like to share any words of wisdom for current and potential BIPOC-ACCUTE members, particularly for graduate students and emerging scholars?

Mahdiyeh Ezzatikarami: The first thing that comes to mind is the importance of defining and understanding the term “BIPOC,” as well as educating ourselves and others about its significance. Too often, the term is used with the assumption of inclusivity, but without offering true inclusion. I’ve heard from colleagues who find the term “BIPOC” offensive, viewing it as a form of “othering” certain groups. I believe this perspective comes from a lack of education and awareness.

BIPOC is a term that should not be used lightly—it carries weight and significance. Unfortunately, many BIPOC meetings aren’t taken as seriously as they should be, even by BIPOC members themselves. As ACCUTE-BIPOC members, it is our responsibility to educate ourselves and others—whether they are students or colleagues—about the history of the lands we live on and the ways we can work toward creating a better world for current and future generations. Part of that is challenging and exposing the fragility of social constructs like race.

More than anything, I believe that the most valuable aspect of being part of BIPOC-ACCUTE is the care and support we offer one another. It’s far more important to show support through actions rather than words. While discussing BIPOC identities is important, helping others—especially BIPOC students—by providing tangible support is what truly makes a difference.