Doing It All for Her– for Us
Got coffee with my 5-year-old self today.
She wore her Skechers, brown capris, and the kitty shirt she swore was magic. I showed up in my white linen set—capris too. Turns out, our love for capris survived the years.
I ordered a hot chai. She got mango juice. Finally, not watered down!
She sat across from me, eyes wide. I could tell she was nervous. Truth is, so was I. Looking at her now, she was adorable—beautiful, even.
I asked what she thinks about her little brothers. “Cute, but loud,” she replied in Spanish. My heart smiled—she would oppose speaking Spanish for a bit. It used to bring us shame, but now we embrace it wholeheartedly.
She told me she loves school, especially reading, even though she still doesn’t fully understand English. I promised her she’ll get there. I told her we’d even grow to love public speaking.
Then she asked, “Do we make lots of money?”
I smiled, “Not yet. But we study Political Science and want to be immigration lawyers to help families who need it.”
She asked, “What’s a lawyer?” “Someone who studies the law to protect others,” I said. She remarks, “They wear suits every day—so fancy!” I giggle in response; I, too, cannot fathom wearing suits every day.
She asked why I wanted to become one. I leaned in, “Because we found our purpose when we saw people who look like us as mayors, company presidents, lawyers. People who know what we go through and do so much for others. We want to be like them. And guess what? In 15 years, your future is already happening.”
She tugged at her shirt. I knew this was a lot for her to process. I told her “We'll stay close to Mom and Dad, and we’re still in Washington—though this summer, we’re in Washington, D.C… it's where the President lives!”
“Where the President lives?!” she gasped.
I nodded. “We were chosen to advocate for kids like us, whose parents work in the fields and who went to programs like you did for EPIC. We’re the only woman out of 3 students!”
She giggled. I don’t think she fully understood, but it didn’t matter.
I believed in her. As we left, her juice half-full, I knelt to her height. I hugged her tight and whispered, “You are smart. You are beautiful. You are kind. You are you.”
And that has always been enough.