Life's an obstacle course — here's how to navigate it | Maryam Banikarim

Episode Summary

Maryam shares how treating life's challenges as an obstacle course has helped her cope and find belonging through difficult times. She recounts growing up in Iran during the 1979 revolution and having to flee the country. After resettling in California, she struggled to fit in but persevered by joining various sports teams and clubs. Though faced with more hurdles like her father's death and professional setbacks, Maryam's determination to push through led to career success. However, during the pandemic in 2020, Maryam realized career achievements didn't necessarily translate to a sense of belonging. Joining with friends to lift spirits in New York City through pop-up events, she found purpose and community. With loneliness and disconnection spiking today, Maryam now aims to foster belonging by bringing neighbors together over shared meals. Seeing obstacles as challenges to overcome has allowed Maryam to adapt to upheaval and thrive. She urges us to remember, when the earth moves beneath our feet, it's not an obstacle but rather a chance to connect with others on the obstacle course of life.

Episode Show Notes

"Instead of seeing life's challenges as obstacles, I see them as an obstacle course — a fascinating array of tests that I'm curious to see if I can pass," says community builder Maryam Banikarim. Telling the story of her experience emigrating from Iran as a child, Banikarim shares how her search for belonging led her to realize that community can help each of us overcome life's hurdles.

Episode Transcript

SPEAKER_02: TED Audio Collective. SPEAKER_00: I'm Elise Hu. You're listening to TED Talks daily. We are emerging from a global pandemic but face climate change, wars, threats to democracy, and more. There's a way to think about this time of turbulence that could help. In her 2023 talk from the TED Immigrant Diaspora Iranian event, community activist Miriam Banakaram offers a framework for survival that can help us find belonging during difficult times after the break. Support for TED Talks daily comes from Capital One Bank. With no fees or minimums, banking with Capital One is the easiest decision in the history of decisions. Even easier than deciding to listen to another episode of your favorite podcast. And with no overdraft fees, is it even a decision? That's banking reimagined. It's in your wallet. Terms apply. See Capital One dot com slash bank Capital One N-A member F-D-I-C. Support for TED Talks daily comes from Global Fabric brought to you by BT. Available in over 200 countries and direct high bandwidth connectivity to over 700 data centers worldwide, Global Fabric provides a zero trust journey, DDoS detection, and mitigation embedded as standard so you can secure your complex multi-cloud ecosystem without impacting performance. Baseline, monitor, and manage your carbon footprint across your entire ecosystem with our dedicated carbon network dashboard. Plus, the Global Fabric network is powered by 100% renewable energy. Master the multi-cloud with Global Fabric, future proof and secure your connectivity on a network that evolves with you. To learn how BT's Global Fabric transform your organization's connectivity, head to BT.com slash Global Fabric. SPEAKER_01: Support for TED Talks daily comes from Airbus, helping create a better future by leading the decarbonization of the aviation industry, pioneering disruptive technologies, and using new energies. Visit Airbus dot com to learn more about our journey towards reducing our environmental impact and collaborating to create a supportive ecosystem for innovation. Airbus, pioneering sustainable aerospace for a safe and united world. SPEAKER_00: Hey, before we get to the rest of the episode, we just want to thank you for listening to TED Talks daily. It means a lot that we're part of your daily routine. If you're not already following us, you can follow us on Amazon Music, where you can find TED Talks daily and all your TED favorites. SPEAKER_02: It's 1979 March in Iran. I'm in Niavaroun, an affluent neighborhood in the north of Tehran. I'm in my bedroom that night that has Brady Bunch style wallpaper, Archie comics, and Barbies all over the floor. I'm doing my homework with Fidel, my little Yorkie, by my side. We live in a Spanish hacienda style house. My grandparents, they live downstairs and we're upstairs. Suddenly the doorbell. My grandmother and her mom are in the kitchen sipping tea and my grandpa's napping. Open the gate! I hear angry voices, so I run to the balcony and look over to find three armed guards standing at the gate. One is jobbing at the door. Jump the fence! My 5'2 grandmother, covered and head to toe with a chador, opens the gate. The men were looking for my father's former boss. He's not here, she says calmly. By this point, I've run downstairs and I'm hiding in her doorway so I can hear everything. They start to move upstairs and I run back to my room where I should have been all along. And that's where Mamá finds me. I'm pretending to do my homework. She says, stay put. But I'm too anxious and curious to listen. So I pick up Fidel under my arm and I follow her out. Suddenly he squirms out of my arm and he runs free into the room. The men, they're disgusted. Some consider dogs, particularly Muslims, to be haram, unclean, and a token of westernization. After the men leave, I learn that the man they'd been looking for had been at our house just a few hours before. It's not long after when my father and the other executives from the bank are rounded up and placed under house arrest. A few weeks later, they're released without much explanation. And then we learn that my father's going to be blacklisted. So he arranges for us to leave the country. We think it's temporary, but it's not. Now that was not the only time in my life when the earth would move dramatically beneath my feet. It happened again when I was in college and my father drowned windsurfing. And then again years later when my mother decided to move back to Iran. Through it all, there was really only two choices. Roll up like a ball or compulsively move forward. Cut to today, when we've all emerged from a global pandemic. And the hits, they just keep coming. Climate change, war, mass shootings, the political divide. It's no wonder that we're all feeling overwhelmed, anxious, and lonely. And those feelings from my childhood, they're back. So recently, a friend who knows me well pointed out one of my coping mechanisms to me. And I want to share it with you in case it can help. Instead of seeing life's challenges as an obstacle, I see them as an obstacle course. A fascinating array of tests that I'm curious to see if I can pass. And the goal, it's always to find a way to push through and find belonging wherever I land. Now back to the Iranian Revolution and the first major hurdle in my obstacle course. I end up finishing sixth grade in Paris. And when it becomes clear that the revolution is here to stay, my parents decide that we're going to move to California. They pick a bucolic suburb of San Francisco as our new hometown. And here they hope that we're going to fit in and get a good education. In the scheme of things, we were the lucky ones. I spoke English fluently thanks to my American school in Iran. My parents, who are westernized professionals, also spoke English, albeit they had a slight accent. We Americanized our names, a common immigrant rite of passage. Miriam becomes Mary, Giti becomes Kathy, Shabnam becomes Susie, and so on. But fit in? Not so much. Did you ride a camel to school? Another classmate nicknamed me Khomeini. It stung. But I pushed those hurt feelings aside and I started tackling that obstacle course by joining. I joined everything, regardless of my level of knowledge or talent. Basketball, softball, bowling. Let me tell you, I was a really, really bad bowler. Sometimes these things worked out, sometimes they didn't. In junior high, I was mesmerized by the cheerleaders, who were clearly at the top of the social hierarchy. When I got to high school, I auditioned, but I didn't make it. Oh well, next year. So I auditioned again, and this year, I make it. By the time I'm a senior, I'm included in a lot of different groups. But my people, they were the brainy kids in AP government and on the school newspaper. Being and doing and being undaunted by obstacles, this is an attitude I take with me to college. During orientation week, I sign up for everything, every event and every club. When a senior says in passing, you should run for class president. I do, and I win. At Barnard College and in New York City, I find my voice. Because here, being a misfit, curious and determined to make your mark, it's the norm. Soon I take on a range of internships, and I'm throwing parties at downtown nightclubs. Because I'm looking for success and belonging in whatever system I find myself in. For my professional life, I begin the climb on the ladder at a Madison Avenue advertising agency. And over the last 25 years, I've successfully navigated this obstacle course as defined by accolades and titles with major executive roles in media, hospitality and tech. But I still hadn't really found what I was looking for. Because success, I'd achieved, but it didn't translate into belonging. And I'm going to tell you a story. I got a lot where this one came from, just by way of example. It's March 2007. I'm the chief marketing officer at a major media company, and we're sold. The new CEO comes in, and he scraps the plans for our TV upfront. He puts me in charge of a project that takes a year of planning, and I have six weeks to basically produce a one-day Broadway-like show for advertisers. The upfront, it is a major hit, and it makes him a hero. To thank me, he sends me a bouquet of flowers. And then, a few weeks later, when I was politically expedient, he demoted me. So here's the thing. You can over-deliver on that obstacle course, and the earth, it can move beneath your feet at any time. Because success doesn't mean you're not going to get thrown off the lifeboat. And since I still hadn't realized that belonging through work wasn't going to be a thing necessarily for me, I just kept at it, determined to figure out this puzzle. One big job after the next. And then, something happened. It was February of 2020. I was an executive at a tech company on the executive team, and the pandemic hit. I was in New York, and New York got hit with COVID early and hard. And by the summer, people started saying, my city, New York, was dead. And my coping mechanisms, they kicked right in. I joined forces with friends, and we started New York City Next, an all-volunteer organization to bring hope and joy back to New York City. In five weeks, we tackled a lot of hurdles, and we brought together 24 award-winning Broadway performers to sing Sunday from Sunday in the Park with George. It blew up on social and got coverage around the world. And we reminded ourselves and the world that New York was very much alive. I remember that that day, as I stood in Times Square with the other volunteers, I was thinking to myself, how did I, an immigrant girl, get here? Well, the answer is that in my search for belonging, I had built a community just across my different worlds. In joining and doing, prioritizing relationships over politics, I had built a community that I could now draw on. And together, we produced 14 pop-up events and a music video of Billy Joel's New York State of Mind. It was a love letter that featured iconic New Yorkers across the five boroughs, and it celebrated the city's creativity, diversity, and energy. And you know what? We went on to win an Emmy. So in coming together to help, we found success, but I also found belonging and community. My kids, Natasha and Nikki, they are quick to remind me that not all my coping mechanisms are for everyone or particularly healthy, like compartmentalizing my feelings. But treating obstacles as an obstacle course, that's fared me well. As we emerge out of this collective trauma that's COVID, it is not surprising that feelings of non-belonging, loss, and disconnection are at an all-time high. Those are feelings that were usually reserved for refugees and immigrants. But today, 68% of Americans are reporting feelings of non-belonging in the nation, 74% in their local communities, and one in two reports feeling some form of loneliness. And here's the thing. I know loneliness. It's just an obstacle course. So I see a picture of neighbors gathered together for a shared meal on the street. It gives me an idea. I post, what if we gathered with the neighbors we've gotten to know and those we don't know? I end up meeting some neighbors, and we hacked together what we called the longest table, a table event down West 21st Street in Chelsea, New York. The proposition was simple. We'd bring the tables and chairs, and we invited neighbors to bring friends and food. The first year, 500 neighbors showed up. The second year, over 700. And coming together, we were successful, but we all found community, belonging, and in fact, joy. Now things can feel big and overwhelming, but when that earth moves beneath your feet, remember, it's not an obstacle. It's just an obstacle course. Thank you. SPEAKER_00: Support for TED Talks Daily comes from Odoo. If you feel like you're wasting time and money with your current business software or just want to know what you could be missing, then you need to join the millions of other users who switched to Odoo. Odoo is the affordable, all-in-one management software with a library of fully integrated business applications that help you get more done in less time for a fraction of the price. To learn more, visit Odoo.com slash TED Talks. That's O-D-O-O dot com slash TED Talks. Odoo, modern management made simple.