When I first got on the plane to Washington, D.C., I was worried.
After all, the White House had just banned all travel from the Middle East and Africa to the United States.
But as I neared my gate, I started to feel like I was in another world.
I was surrounded by strangers who looked like they were in their 40s or 50s and were shouting, yelling, yelling.
I could hear them talking about how much they loved America and how much it meant to them.
I saw the crowds that had gathered to cheer as the passengers were turned away and I wondered if I was dreaming.
I knew that this was not the kind of place that the president and the rest of the White Congress would allow.
But I was also reminded that I was only on the last leg of a journey that had already taken me across Europe and South America.
I would soon meet a man who would make me a better person.
His name was Daniel Ocasio-Cortez.
He is the president of the United Nations General Assembly and one of the world’s leading experts on climate change.
He has helped shape the UN’s climate change agenda and has been the driving force behind the Paris Agreement.
I met Daniel at his office, which was decorated with framed portraits of presidents.
I asked Daniel if he could speak to me about the importance of the Paris agreement.
He told me, “The world is moving toward a climate-neutral future.
We are at a critical juncture.
We must take the lead in moving toward it.”
Daniel said he had traveled to China to learn about the climate change and how to manage the risks of global warming.
He then headed back to his office to make a presentation.
He said he would explain to the members of the General Assembly what the Paris accord meant for the United Kingdom, the United Arab Emirates, India, and the United Republic of Tanzania.
As he spoke, he stopped, and then he said, “I can’t talk to you right now, because the United N.G.O. has already banned me from the U.S. on account of my activism.”
I had heard that he had been kicked off the plane.
But this was a different story.
After I had spoken with Daniel, I went back to my seat and watched the other passengers take their seats.
A woman in a pink dress sat next to me.
She was wearing a red hijab and a hijab-like head scarf that covered her face and hands.
I recognized her as an American.
We were the first ones to arrive.
Daniel was seated next to her, and he asked me, with an incredulous look on his face, if I wanted to join him.
I told him that I did.
I didn’t have much choice, as I was now being denied entry to the U: the president had issued an executive order banning all refugees and residents from the countries that were being singled out.
It was an unprecedented ban that would effectively close the U’s borders to anyone who didn’t meet the president’s definition of a “threat to national security.”
The ban is the latest example of the Trump administration’s aggressive approach to national-security matters.
Daniel has been an outspoken advocate for human rights and freedom.
He founded the non-profit group Freedom House and helped to organize protests in China, South Africa, and Ukraine.
But when the ban was first announced, Daniel and Freedom House said they were still not sure how to respond.
After speaking to the White Senate and the House of Representatives, Daniel said, we were in limbo.
He and Freedom H.S., an international human-rights organization, met with members of both the Senate and House of Congress.
I wanted nothing to do with it.
I felt trapped.
The ban was set to take effect on Jan. 3.
Daniel and his group began organizing demonstrations around the country.
We worked with students to march in Washington, DC, and around the nation to protest the ban.
In February, the president signed an executive action banning refugees from Iran, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria, and Yemen.
At a press conference on March 2, Daniel had urged the public to go out and protest against the ban: “We’re not against the president.
We’re against what he’s doing.
We want to be able to stay here in the U, where we belong.
This is a very dangerous world, and we have to keep fighting for our human rights.”
Daniel and I had already been to Iran, and as we were leaving the airport in Tehran, he told me that the ban had already cost him his job.
I thought of that and I asked, “Why are you in Iran?”
He was not sure, but he thought that it would be best if we did not return to Iran.
He went on to explain, “This is my country, so I need to stay in the country.”
He was also concerned about the impact of the ban on the jobs of Iranian workers