Other Words for Home

by Jasmine Warga

There is an Arabic proverb that says: The offspring of ducks float. It means, all children end up like their parents. I guess I am starting to float.

Nunu, she confirms. I slide out of my chair and snuggle up to her belly, pressing my ear against the soft fabric of her dress, and I swear I hear a heartbeat. I am learning how to be sad and happy at the same time.

America, like every other place in the world, is a place where some people sleep and some people other people dream.

Americans love labels. They help them know what to expect. Sometimes, though, I think labels stop them from thinking.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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.