LOS ANGELES, Calif. — As tensions escalate in Iran and uncertainty grows over what comes next, reactions among Iranians — both inside the country and across the diaspora — are anything but simple.
For many, this moment is deeply personal, shaped by decades of loss, displacement and resilience.
For Narbe Mansourian, a California teacher, coach and father, the news unfolding thousands of miles away feels close to home.
“I felt so many simultaneous emotions — relief, anger, sadness, bittersweet,” he said. “And then … what’s next?”
Recent strikes and the reported killing of top leaders, including Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, have sparked a range of reactions around the world, from celebration to concern, particularly among those with ties to Iran.
For Narbe, those reactions are rooted in lived experience.
Born in Paris to Armenian parents, he returned to Iran as a child during a turbulent period following the Iranian Revolution and during the Iran-Iraq War.
His father, who opposed the regime, was arrested and imprisoned.
“I was about six and a half,” Narbe said. “I have vivid memories of standing in line for hours just to see him for 10 minutes behind glass.”
His father was later executed.
That loss would alter the course of his life.
After years of war and instability, his family fled Iran. By the time he was 12, he had lived on three continents, a journey shaped by survival rather than choice.
Today, as Iran faces another moment of upheaval, Narbe says the emotional response is layered and often misunderstood.
“You can feel happiness and sadness at the same time,” he said. “They’re not mutually exclusive.”
That complexity reflects Iran’s modern history, marked by cycles of unrest, repression and resistance. Since the establishment of the Islamic Republic, waves of protests, including the Green Movement and the Mahsa Amini protests, have been met with crackdowns that have left thousands dead, imprisoned or exiled.
Despite renewed demonstrations and calls for change, including chants supporting exiled opposition figure Reza Pahlavi, the son of Iran’s former shah, meaningful regime change remains uncertain.
For those watching from abroad, that uncertainty is compounded by concern for those still living in Iran.
“We’re sitting here from a place of comfort,” Narbe said. “The real damage is happening to the people there.”
That perspective is shaped not only by what he lost, but by what he has built since.
We first met Narbe years ago in his classroom, where he spoke about his life, his father and the experiences that led him to teaching. Today, he says those experiences inform how he shows up for his students and his own children.
“I’m a walking testament that this happened,” he said. “And that it’s still happening.”
The absence of his father, he said, made him determined to be present in his own children’s lives.
“I wanted to make sure I was always there, very hands-on,” he said. “So they wouldn’t feel that loss.”
For Narbe and many like him this moment is not just about politics.
It is about memory. About family. And about the hope that whatever comes next for Iran does not come at the cost of more lives.
