“Papa?” I looked up at him. “Good luck.” “Don’t you worry ‘bout me, baby,” he said in his trademark deep voice. He crouched down to hug me. I went up the stairs to the bedroom I shared with my three-year-old brother, Jaymore, as Mama said her goodbyes. Little Jaymore had mumbled his goodbyes before me with the English he knew.

 

I heard her voice through the thin walls: “Noah, don’t you let them stomp you down! They shouldn’t care if you got dark skin because you are more qualified than all of them put together!”

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The rest of their conversation was quiet, and I knelt beside my bed and prayed that Papa would get a job. If he did not, we would be evicted and have to move out. Mama said that she knew somebody who would probably let us stay a few weeks, but where would we go after that?

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As I heard the door close, I quickly started changing into school clothes. Mama called to me from the stairs. “Ashleigh, are you done yet? Come on, Mama needs to go to the library!”

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At school I couldn’t stop wondering what would happen to Papa. Someday would I be in his place, struggling to find work, living off paycheck to paycheck just because of my skin?

 

When I got home I waited nervously at the dinner table, doing my homework, and expecting bad news. Did Papa get a job? Did he not? Would we have to leave our home? Meanwhile, Mama was out of the house as well. She had gone after walking me home. To where? I had too many questions.

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Finally the door blasted open to reveal a disappointed father and a proud mother. At the same time, Mama screamed, “I got a job!” and papa said, “I got rejected.” I looked back and forth between them. “So… will we have to move?” I asked nervously. Papa and I both looked at mama. “Absolutely. We are moving to Houston, Texas!” Her excited shout was replied to by a confused silence. “Why?”

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“I got a job in NASA!” she shouted excitedly.

 

“What’s NASA?” Jaymore mumbled gently, tilting his head and staring into the sky out the window.

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“NASA is the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. They make rockets that can fly to the moon and back.” Mama said with a delighted tone and exaggerated hand gestures. “I got a job there as an aerospace engineer, and I will earn enough for us to buy our own house after a while!”

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Papa looked at her for a while, as if contemplating reality. Then he hugged her and held her tight for a long time.

 

Mama turned to me and Jaymore. “Children, study hard.”

 

One month later…

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I am now in fourth grade. Jaymore started preschool, and we both study very hard. He is learning to read, and I am learning how to construct sentences. Mama is very smart and has a high paying job at NASA, so despite her race and gender, she will not be easily replaced. Papa works at a nearby auto-repair place. Our family owns our own house now, thanks to both of them. I also have a tip that I will have to remember to tell my kids when I have them: study hard.