This is the time of year when presidential candidates fill the heads of Americans with the word “hope.” Work hard for your dreams, they urge, and never, ever give up. Rashida Tlaib could have written that speech. So, the next time you think you can’t do something because the odds are too great, consider her story.

Rashida Tlaib is Michigan’s Arab-American and Muslim-American Vote director for presidential candidate Barack Obama. Which means she’ll spend the next 32 days getting little or no sleep at all as she heads volunteers, speaks at events as a surrogate for the campaign, coordinates grass roots efforts, registers voters and make sure her guy is the one who gets to move into 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. in January.

Making inroads with Arabs and Muslims could sway the outcome next month in key states like Michigan.

Pressure packed stuff for Rashida, right?

Just wait.

OVERCOMING ODDS

Imagine, for a moment, that you are this young woman. You are the first child of 14. There wasn’t a 10,000-square-foot house. There wasn’t a fleet of cars. There wasn’t money for brand name clothes. There was a two-family brick home in southwest Detroit. You shared a room with brothers and sisters. Being the oldest, you took on the roll of a third parent: changing diapers, driving siblings to tennis tournaments, taking care of household chores. And when it was time for the family trip to Cedar Point, you all piled into a big blue cargo van – backseats not included.

You endure all this, then you go to college. But it isn’t easy juggling law school and four siblings in diapers. But family comes first, even if that means you get to bed last. But you don’t quit because you’re parents urge you to work hard for your dreams. So you continue to get yourself up every morning and haul your butt to school. You work twice as hard. Before you know it, it’s graduation day.

Your family cheers.

You stay true to your community and help low income families with immigration and social services.

But that’s not even the most impressive part of this story.

More doors swing open, and you dream of change. You volunteer your time for a state representative, whose time ends with term limits. He practically begs you to run.

You say no again and again. You finally say YES after scanning countless other candidates, and realizing no one can bring the kind of passion and effort you can. So, you run for state House District 12 in Detroit, which is mostly Latino and Black. You are of Palestinian decent. You face nine other candidates with name recognition. You are the rookie.

Pressure?

How in the world can a Middle Eastern candidate contend politically in southwest Detroit?

You ignore naysayers and move on because it’s in your DNA. You begin campaigning. You’re tired, your shoes are worn out after walking the district. You leave notes for those who aren’t home and talk, at times through a translator, to those who are:

“I grew up in southwest Detroit, and I’m the eldest of 14. I work for representative Tobocman and I came from the non-profit world. I understand how important it is to get people through everyday issues.”

One by one, residents from the economically distressed community nod their heads. And then election day comes. You still have doubts about the outcome. Until you pull up to your campaign office, and see the diversity of volunteers on the sidewalk chanting your name and holding up your political signs. Before the day’s up, you land up beating all your opponents to win your primary.

You are Rashida Tlaib and you smile proudly.

“I have a unique name,” Rashida says. “Some residents cannot pronounce my name, but they still know who I am.”

You are someone who accepts day-to-day challenges. You are family first. You have survived things that broke others. You are the woman who wouldn’t quit. You couldn’t speak Spanish and your Arabic is so-so, but, in the end, that didn’t matter.

What mattered most was hard work.

If Rashida Tlaib completes her journey in November, she will have become the first Muslim woman to serve in the state legislature.

But you limit her when you bring race into her accomplishments. Because integrity has no color. Character has no color. Real progress is giving good people opportunities to rise to the top, regardless of their color.

That’s where Rashida’s seeds were first planted. “When she came on staff (years ago), I was very impressed from the moment she got there,” Tobocman said. “I can’t think of any other way to describe her other than hard working.”

Neither can we.*