When a federal process hits home
Story by Susannah Cox Maddux | Photos by Jerome Gratigny
Last year, Judge Tillman E. “Tripp” Self III asked me to join him at the United States Naturalization Ceremony here in Macon. Conducted by the United States District Court for the Middle District of Georgia, “naturalization is the process by which U.S. citizenship is conferred upon a foreign citizen or national” after fulfilling the requirements established by Congress in the Immigration and Nationality Act (INA), according to the district.
As I stepped into the courtroom on April 9th, I saw the anticipation, heard the sounds of young children… being young children, and felt the abundant nerves surrounding the 22 candidates for citizenship, representing 15 countries. If you’ve ever stood before a judge in a courtroom on foreign land, perhaps you can understand the layers of energy filling that room. I stood on the land I was born on and witnessed countless stories I’ve never lived, and was reminded I did not have to work to receive the ultimate result of citizenship.
This April ceremony marked Judge Self’s first as the presiding judge, but it was clear it was already a meaningful job duty. After the proceedings, he had the privilege of being the first to welcome these newest U.S. Citizens. He smiled with a knowing pride, and as he spoke, his voice cracked.
“This is a great day. This is my favorite thing to do, by far. This makes up for all the sentencings…for everything bad that goes on, because everybody leaves here happy,” he said in a conversation moments after.
“What makes me so happy is that…as an American, we didn’t get a choice. We were that lucky that we were born Americans. These folks chose us. They chose this country with all its flaws, with all its foibles.”
Leaving his home and family in Iran, Shayan Drake tried to build a new life in Denmark. He also wanted to be here. After years of waiting and thousands in attorney fees associated with a sometimes tedious process of obtaining U.S. Citizenship, Shayan was one of the candidates on the front row in the Downtown Macon courtroom who caught my attention on that spring day.
I met Shayan and his spouse, Julia, after the ceremony. I could see the depth of the moment in his intent eyes.Julia said, ”When he and I first were dating, my mom asked me what it was I loved most about him and I said, ‘His eyes!’ There’s something about them!”
“Shayan doesn’t give himself enough credit for how hard he has worked through this process. He is an extremely driven and disciplined person,” she said. “I feel so proud to have been able to walk this path with him and reach this incredible conclusion together as a family. And to have our son there was just something I can’t really put into words.”
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So now as we move forward as a family, looking back on all we’ve been through, we’re filled with a lot of gratitude and appreciation for all the support we had along the way.” On top of this accomplishment, their fifth anniversary is coming up, with Julia adding, “
He has worked so hard…He deserves the whole world.”
I asked Shayan to share more about what led them to that memorable day in Macon on April 9th.
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Shayan Drake, in his own words for his first time as a U.S. Citizen:
I’m Shayan, a 38-year-old man, born in Iran. People tend to pronounce my ex-homeland “I-ran” but it’s really more of “E-run” (rhyming with “dawn”). It used to be a cradle of civilization, according to Wikipedia. With that glory gone, it is now more of a graveyard for all the young and brave souls who want basic human rights: freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and economic stability, but instead end up being executed by the religious and corrupt regime that’s been ruling the country for the past 40 years.
Things were not great before that either; suppression, class conflict, and foreign intervention had previously led to the revolution of 1979. Iran has been plagued by foreign powers for centuries, all the way from Islamic conquest, to the Mongols, to Anglo-Soviet invasion. Ironically, Iran hasn’t ever been colonized despite all these disruptions. There’s something about Iran that makes it shrewdly absorb the language and the culture of the invaders and survive beyond them.
While things are not as bad in Iran as Afghanistan or North Korea, there’s something that is diminishing in the life and psyche of Iranians in recent history – hope. Corruption, suppression, sanctions, and so forth have left the people in a growing state of despair. There is not much hope for the future in Iran.
That’s what motivated me to leave the country in a pursuit of happiness.
I was the second son of a single mom. I didn’t have a blissful childhood. I don’t remember most of it, perhaps intentionally. I grew up fairly poor. Much luckier than my brother, I was able to pursue education and got my bachelor’s and master’s degrees back in Iran.
I worked a few years, then I moved to Denmark and worked there for some time and saved some money, before being lonely in a cold and dark weather started to mess with my mental health – although I made a few great friends there whom I’m still in touch with. Thankfully my cousins, to whom I owe a lot and who have been living in the U.S. for four decades, could help me get a student visa for a Ph.D. program at the University of South Carolina in 2017. That’s when I came to the U.S. for the first time. After a semester in Columbia, SC, I decided to change my major and go for a more “techy” path. I’m currently a Senior AI scientist in a software company.
I transferred to Kennesaw State University for a second master’s and moved to Atlanta in 2018. During this transition I met my future wife, and I moved in with her a year later and have lived in Athens, Georgia ever since.
In 2020, I graduated, got married (we had a little wedding due to the pandemic), and got a job offer after finishing an internship earlier that year. In 2023, we welcomed our son, Cyrus, to this world.
That’s when I started telling myself: “This must be it, it is real. I’m not dreaming. Hard work pays off. I have a life now; I have a little family that I love and hope for.” After a bunch of applications, interviews, several thousand dollars in fees and lawyer expenses, I finally became a US citizen in 2025.
How do you feel, so fresh after the naturalization ceremony?
Relieved, proud, and hopeful. Mostly excited for my son Cyrus and his future. I want a better life and a better childhood for him than what I had myself.
What prompted your choice to become a U.S. Citizen?
The pursuit of a better life, a normal one. Living in a country whose government protects the rights and freedoms of its citizens, strives for their health and wellbeing. To be able to afford housing, a comfortable life, and providing for one’s family. Simply liberty and happiness.
Do you have any specific concerns about becoming a U.S. Citizen, considering the current presidential administration’s priorities about immigration?
Regardless of the political party, each administration has its own strengths and flaws. There are always tensions, concerns, and hopes. One party represents more of my values, while the other serves fewer of them. That’s normal, that’s what democracy is all about.
But what l care about most and what concerns me is the founding principles that sets this country apart from any other nation in history: freedom of speech, religion, assembly, etc. The tolerance for criticism and opposition, the courtesy and dignity of hearing voices and opinions that are different from ours, and finally, a leadership that unites and does not divide, that spreads hope instead of fear.
After all, we are the United States. Any deviance from these values is a terrifying harbinger of the totalitarian regimes whose people long to be American citizens all their life in order to be free, to pursue liberty and happiness, to be able to criticize the government and hold it accountable without the fear of persecution, to rise above political lines and flourish, and to follow their dreams. That is what makes a nation great.
How can more people support new citizens?
Not relying on the media as the only source of truth when it comes to knowing and learning about people who were not born here. That the willingness to know about others without bias can do miracles.
Be open. From my experience, most people, even those whose governments are hostile, do not mean to harm others. They value the same principle and are after a safe and comfortable life, just like you.
Is there anything else you would like to share with our readers?
Despite some of the hardships, injustices, and long waits that I went through as part of my immigration journey that I will need to talk to my son about, when the time comes to tell the story of my life, I will also tell him about all the smiling faces and welcoming arms of those Americans, relatives and strangers, who made me feel like this is my home.
I will tell him about all those fellow Americans whom I met for the first time on the day of my naturalization ceremony and who shook my hand firmly and congratulated me, including the judge himself (whose remarks on unity and freedom I will never forget), court clerks, and journalists.
This is a home I will admire, protect, and cherish. I am grateful for my family, especially my wife, without whom I wouldn’t be where I am today, and my new home.
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As I finished my conversation with Judge Self, he said, “I try to tell every jury: We have the greatest legal system in the world. It’s not perfect. But I’d rather have it than China, Iran, … any other place in the world.”
I left that courthouse and walked out into a perfect spring day, the kind that makes you feel alive, like you can breathe better if you’re open to the idea of it. Judge Self’s words about these newest fellow Americans struck me: “I suspect they appreciate their citizenship more than all of us do. That’s a convicting thing. It is emotional for me, as a veteran, as an American to see people who are proud of their country.”
Do we feel that conviction? We may. But conviction can have a way of keeping us mired down or even misdirected.
As a witness that day, I felt the connection between our federal government and the resulting new life I could see in our people, our peers, our neighbors. And while one long and often arduous process from the top may change a life once, it’s the daily interactions in our communities that have the power to change lives again and again.
What power may come from our federal administration will not be the final act. Empathetic spirit, courageous conversations, and respect for humanity will transcend us.