English
Mama taught herself English by reading
my elementary school textbooks. She did
this to help with my homework, spending
evening after evening flipping through the
foreign language, thumb after wet thumb
imprinting the words on her tongue.
When they speak of sacrifice and devotion,
think of her hunched back piecing together
what she could of the new world. Cigarette
smoke trailing into the air, pouring Arabic
coffee from that old discolored stainless
pot, stitching possibility to every fleeting
minute, praying, but not without effort,
that I might grow up with access to the
wider world. That I might make something
of my life through the tirelessness of hers.
Reflecting on the fourth of July, on the privilege of being born in America and the only American citizen in my family, on interdependence, and the effort it took to give me opportunity.
Thank you for this tribute to your beautiful and powerful mother.