Together Tea

by Marjan Kamali

She knew how to swing her legs on that hyphen that defined and denied who she was: Iranian-American. Neither the first word nor the second really belonged to her. Her place was on the hyphen, and on the hyphen she would stay, carrying memories of the one place from which she had come and the other place in which she must succeed.

Americans went about their business as if life were short and all their energy and efforts had to be spent today.

they always called America “the Land of the Teacups.”

“It’s always through the women that the men express their agenda. Now she has to cover up so they can feel like they’re in power.”

Mina realized that whoever had access to dispensing information drew and colored the world.

She felt again the overwhelming sense of responsibility that she’d gotten accustomed to ever since the birth of her first child: the stunning knowledge that where her kids were going was due in large part to where she, as mother, led them. This duty felt at times as if it could drown her.