Other Words for Home

There is an Arabic proverb that says: She makes you feel like a loaf of freshly baked bread. It is said about the nicest kindest people. The type of people who help you rise.

Hoping, I’m starting to think, might be the bravest thing a person can do.

I wonder if it is exhausting to be a tree. To lose something, year after year, only to trust that it will someday grow back" -Jude

Just like I am no longer a girl. I am a Middle Eastern girl. A Syrian girl. A Muslim girl. Americans love labels. They help them know what to expect. Sometimes, though, I think labels stop them from thinking.

I have learned that sometimes the simplest things are the hardest things to say. That sometimes there is no word for what you feel, no word in any language.

Lucky. I am learning how to say it over and over again in English. I am learning how it tastes— sweet with promise and bitter with responsibility.

I cover my head not because I am ashamed forced or hiding. But because I am proud and want to seen as I am.

Sometimes talking to Mama reminds me of a feather duster brushing dirt away from a mirror. She doesn't give you anything new, but she helps you better see what is already there.

Mama says the word cake like it's just an ordinary food which is strange since everyone knows that cakes are made of magic.

You will belong here. . .You will make anywhere beautiful.

I want women like Aunt Michelle to understand that it is not only women who look like them are free who think and care about other women.

Sometimes all you can do is hold on.

Here, that food is Middle Eastern food. Baguettes are French food. Spaghetti is Italian food. Pizza is both American and Italian, depending on which restaurant you go to. Every food has a label. It is sorted and assigned. Just like I am no longer a girl. I am a Middle Eastern girl. A Syrian girl. A Muslim girl. Americans love labels. They help them know what to expect. Sometimes, though, I think labels stop them from thinking.

That is something powerful enough to transcend oceans: a mama's ability to say something without actually saying it." -Jude

We’re in a period of human history where empathy is needed more than ever. As the mother of two little girls, I’m constantly trying to teach them the idea that no one ever grows poor from giving. That sharing what you have does not make what you have worth any less. I guess that’s what this book is really about—the ever-growing need for generosity. And generosity is really just another word for love. So let’s work on giving more love to others as well as to ourselves. (from Author's Note)

She tries to explain that it is like how we all expect it to be snowy in Antarctica but sunny and warm in Tahiti but if it snowed in Tahiti that would be news because it would be unexpected, but no one bats an eye when snow falls in frozen Antarctica. It takes me a while to process this, that what Layla is saying is that Americans think it’s normal for there to be violence in places where people like me are from, where people like me and people who look like me live. That they all see people like me and think violence sadness war. That’s not true, I say. Syria wasn’t always like how it is now, and it won’t always be like that either.

Proud of each other, proud of what we have created together. It is lovely to be a part of something that feels bigger than you.

There is a long break. I have learned Americans love to say you know and then stop talking. They force you to fill in the hard parts, the things they are not brave enough to say.

I like thinking in numbers. Numbers are easier than letters. They have not changed on me.

Back home, Mama always made us laugh. She wasn’t funny in the way Issa was. Issa’s funny is like an elephant, impossible to miss, you know when he wants to make you laugh. But Mama’s funny is more like a cat, slinking around, hiding out in corners, brushing up on you by surprise.

I think of the Arabic proverb that says: She cannot give what she does not have. I have never really understood what that means, but it seems wise and like I might be learning to better understand it now.

You should care about our country, too, he says. I do, I say, but what I mean is that I care about my brother and my baba and my mama and I just want to live in a country where we can all have dinner again without shouting about our president or rebels and revolution.

Sometimes I feel like you have to say things out loud just to remind the universe that you're still thinking about them." -Jude

It seems like the kind of place where dreams could grow and live.

I am learning how to be sad and happy at the same time" -Jude

I want women...to understand that it is not only women who look like them who are free who think and care about other women. That it is possible for two things to look similar but be completely different.

Those men are now fighting against the government's army, and the people who live in the town don't know whose side to choose. They only want the violence to stop. Nobody knows which side is right anymore.