“yes, yes, you have to make enough money to buy chickens"

I visited the United States for the first time at the age of seven. 

Even though I had heard stories about life in America, I was blown away. 

I had grown up in a village in the Atlas Mountains of Morocco of no more than two thousand people. Most people could find some family relationship with each villager. Everyone was either my cousin, uncle, or aunt. We dressed in a similar fashion (hand me downs), ate the same food (often shared with several families), prayed to the same god and spoke one language, Amazigh (Berber).

I found myself tumbling into a world of plenty, variety and choices. Snacks sat in a bowl on the kitchen counter available for plundering at any time, meals changed every night, people spoke several languages at the dinner table and men and women sat together.  Women wore any length or skirts or pants, even very short shorts. No one seemed to care that the girls’ minimalistic clothing exposed their  arms and legs. The variety and freedom in women’s fashion fascinated me. The contrast between the two cultures was staggering. To this day, I have no clue how I did not go crazy with everything I saw.

My world went so fast from knowing one culture, one religion, one way of thinking to moving to this massive melting pot of cultures, religions, and opportunities. 

I am now sixteen-years-old and have lived in the United States for four years. I’ve adjusted and assimilated to this new life. My old way of thinking and living sometimes comes flashing back, especially when I speak to my biological parents. On a recent weekly phone call,  the dramatic turn view of the world landed hard. I was explaining to my six-year-old sister that I was a “feminist”. I told her that she had to pursue higher education in order to attain financial independence. As I reiterated the importance of financial stability,  my mother interjected with “yes, yes, you have to make enough money to buy chickens". 

For my mother and other women of my village, ultimate success is proportional to how many chickens you own. My mother is a very intelligent woman, but few tangible opportunities are available to her.  

My mother plans to buy chickens. I plan to study global policy so that she can buy chickens but also feel it is possible to become a teacher, a lawyer, astronaut, and even have her own bank account. From that conversion I decided that it is key to surround yourself with people of different backgrounds, cultures and experiences. Diversity leads to broader knowledge.