“Hey, Adam, is the president mom’s boss now?”
“No, Yousif, the president’s not my boss. The 700,000 people who live in the district who elected me are my bosses.”
“And if the president doesn’t follow the law, she can vote to give him a time-out!”
Sometimes my little brother, Yousif, and I go to work with our mom.
She’s a U.S. congressperson. That means she works in the Capitol Building in Washington D.C.
When you walk through the Captiol doors, you enter a giant hall that looks like a museum. It feels like anything is possible.
My mom and I want everyone to feel this way, too.
“It’s my job to open doors of opportunity and work for justice for all, to help make people’s lives better.”
“Come on!”
Mama’s story of opening doors started long before she was elected to Congress, though.
It began before she was born, when her yama and yaba made their way from Palestine’s West Bank to the United States of America. They settled into a new home in southwest Detroit, Michigan. Not long after, they welcomed their first child- a little girl named Rashida.
Soon the house was filled with more kids- my aunts and uncles. Rashida helped her yama cook and care for the younger ones. She choreographed dances and played basketball with them. Eventually there would be fourteen children in all.
“That’s enough players for two whole teams!”
Every now and then, when no one needed anything, Rashida would take a few moments to be all by herself. Sometimes she shut the bedroom door tight and danced like a pop star.
Other times she laced up her shoes and ran down the street toward a truck called the Bookmobile. The books inside were like wide-open doors to new worlds, real and imaginary.
Sometimes when cousins came over to visit, they held their noses. Nearby factories polluted the whole neighborhood with a strong odor, like rotten eggs. The smell got into everyone’s clothes and hair. Rashida was used to it, but she still felt embarrassed.
When she traveled with her family, Rashida felt different from kids who lived in other neighborhoods. Some families drove shiny new cars that didn’t break down. They didn’t eat powdered eggs or rely on government assistance to make sure everyone was fed. The kids in those families wore new clothes and didn’t have to share a bedroom with six siblings.
Every now and then, when Rashida and her yama went shopping, cashiers made fun of yama’s accent. One ordered her to “learn English”, even though she already spoke it well.
Rashida loved her community and who she was. But as she got older, she worried that students like her would have fewer opportunities. So when Mrs. Marshall asked her to join the high school debate team, she signed up right away.
At her first competition, she looked out at the kids from those other neighborhoods and froze. She had a great argument prepared, but her voice wouldn’t push out one word. Her debate partner was confused, then furious. They lost. Why hadn’t she said anything?
She felt like she shrunk an inch or two that day.
Comprehension Questions
1. Where did Rashida's parents move from?
A. Palestine's East Bank
B. Pakistan
C. Palestine's West Bank
2. How many children are in Rashida's family?
A. 14
B. 10
C. 12
A. 14
B. 10
C. 12
Your Thoughts
3. Did you like this excerpt? Why or why not?
Vocabulary
4. List any vocabulary words below.