My dad was very critical and had very high expectations without a lot of the details filled in. It was, 'I expect you to achieve greatness in grades, in athletics, in whatever you do.'

Our long memories hold the stories of what our people accomplished, but they also hold the prejudices, the injustices, the harm that we've received from others.

Part of the job for me and others from El Paso who live along the border is to dispel the myths about how supposedly dangerous the border is.

We must ensure the economy really works for all, to address unconscionable wealth and income disparities that allow access to opportunity for some over others.

Mine is a story about a teenage single mother who struggled to keep her young family afloat. It's a story about a young woman who was given a precious opportunity to work her way up in the world. It's a story about resiliency, and sacrifice, and perseverance. And you're damn right it's a true story.

My father was the center of the family, and everyone tried to please him.

I wasn't raised super-poor, but my parents got divorced, and my mother didn't have much money. Even now if I have a cake, I'll eat it slowly, and I save most of the money I have.

My father is a hotelier in Karnataka. There're no actors in my family.