Page 23 of Something in Between

We’re so happy to hear from you! I’m ready to book your flight from LAX to Dulles. Please send me your information so I can do so. And there’s plenty of time before the grant forms are due. I can answer any questions you have about it either over email or in person when you arrive. Looking forward to meeting you.

Suzanne Roberts

Department of Education Liaison

P.S. Remember to pack warmly! It’s starting to get chilly here in D.C.

I’m barely listening when Dad begins making sarcastic comments about extraterrestrials. “Aliens, huh?” he says. “You think those guys who crash landed in Roswell could afford that fine?”

Mom and I both shake our heads. Now Dad just wants to show off.

“To be eligible,” Jessica says, “aliens must have been physically present in the United States since January 1, 2012, except for certain limited absences.”

“Thank God,” Mom says, sighing. “There’s hope for us.”

“This is good?” Dad asks. Though he’s usually the positive one, he seems unconvinced. “We’ve been here long enough, but we’ll probably go bankrupt just applying to stay here.”

“There are also criminal grounds for ineligibility,” Jessica adds, “including felony, multiple misdemeanors, and other crimes. Aliens must pass background checks and be financially sustainable above the federal poverty level.”

“You see?” Dad complains. “They’ll make us go bankrupt, then kick us out anyway.”

“Stop it,” Mom says. “This is good news!”

This is great news. I’m smiling, actually. For the first time in weeks, I feel like there’s a real way out. This means something, even more than the trip to D.C. The bill is a ray of hope. If it passes and becomes law, we can apply for green cards, and once we get those, after five years, we can apply for citizenship as well.

“I have some more good news,” I blurt.

“About what?” Mom asks.

“I’m going to Washington, D.C., next weekend for the National Scholarship Award.”

I realize that for once I didn’t even think about asking for permission.

Dad turns down the volume on the television. “Excuse me? And just how do you think you’ll do that? You don’t have a social security number.”

“I didn’t say I was going to fill out the grant acceptance form,” I say. “But they don’t need documentation for the recognition dinner and weekend activities. I can go to those at least. I’ll just have to figure out the rest later.”

“I don’t know,” Dad says doubtfully. “How will you get on an airplane?”

To my surprise, Mom backs me up instead of supporting Dad. “You stop worrying,” she says, touching him on the shoulder. “She’s right. She should be able to go to D.C. Be happy for your daughter! Besides, I still have our passports from the Philippines. Jasmine can use that for identification. She doesn’t have to tell anyone about her status.”

I smile. Dad will always go along with Mom’s approval. Now I just have to figure out what to wear to the fancy dinner.

“Just think,” I say, buoyed by the thought of actually being able to go on the trip, “once that bill passes the House, I can go wherever I want without having to worry. I’ll legally be in the US. We’ll all be.”

Please, God, let it happen.

9

When I discover who I am, I’ll be free.

—RALPH ELLISON,INVISIBLE MAN

THE NEXT DAY,I stop by the college counseling office to tell Mrs. Garcia I’m leaving for the National Scholarship reception on Thursday. “That’s wonderful, Jasmine, have a good time. Like I told you before, I’m so proud of you,” she says with a huge smile. “But I have to tell you... A couple of your teachers mentioned that you haven’t seemed like yourself the last few weeks,” she says. “What’s going on?”

“I guess I’ve been kind of busy,” I say, hesitant to reveal anything more.

Honestly, I’m upset to hear that. I’ve never had teachers complain about my performance. Apart from the B+ in Calc, I’m still pulling the usual A’s. Although I have been a little quiet in class, not raising my hand or offering my opinion on things, and I guess they’ve noticed. It’s not that I’m disengaged, it’s that I’m consumed with finding a way out of my family’s mess.

---