I'm the daughter of refugees. The immigrant mentality is to work hard, be brave, and never give up in your pursuit of achieving the American dream.

We must stand up and fight for an America that welcomes young doers and dreamers instead of categorically denying entry to so many simply based on their religion or country of origin.

In college, I studied political science, policy, and law. My plan was to move to New York, pay off student debt in a year or two, and then run for office.

I think as automation gets even more and more prevalent, we're going to need to learn how to code. Everybody does.

I refuse to see losing as a negative. Obama lost in '83 when he ran against Bobby Rush. Hillary lost in '08. Even Lincoln lost the first election. It's a useful learning experience.

Girls Who Code is all about providing role models. You can't be what you can't see.

Some people worry about our federal deficit, but I, I worry about our bravery deficit. Our economy, our society - we're just losing out because we're not raising our girls to be brave. The bravery deficit is why women are underrepresented in STEM, in C-suites, in boardrooms, in Congress, and pretty much everywhere you look.

As I've traveled the country, we visit tech incubators all the time where women are going into their second or third act in their career and learning how to be software programmers, or how to work at startup companies, and learning a completely different skill set. I think it's never too late.

In 2010, I ran for Congress in a Democratic primary against someone who had been there for 18 years. 'The Daily News' endorsed me. I was in 'The New York Times' above the fold. CNBC called this one of the hottest races in the country. On election day, votes for me never went past 19%. I lost.

Theoretically, I have no business starting an organization called Girls Who Code, because I don't code.

As women, we're presented this false choice that is either our children or our work. But I don't think I fully understood the paradox until I had a child. I bring my son to work and let other parents do the same. I am very intentional about the workplace that I create, and my son is a big part of that.

There's no better way of learning from your experiences than having an open and honest conversation with yourself about why you fell short.

I was definitely one of those girls where my father would sit me at the dinner table and say, 'What's two plus two?' And I'd be like, 'Five!' He would shake his head. Math and science intimidated me.

I wanted to become a lawyer because I saw Kelly McGillis on 'The Accused.' 'Grey's Anatomy,' 'L.A. Law,' 'Ally McBeal' - all of these have inspired women to go into law. I think the opposite is happening in technology.

For so long, women have been waiting to get recognized. The world doesn't work that way. We need to teach girls that it's OK to ask for what you want when it comes to your salary or whatever it is you want to enhance your career. No one is going to notice you no matter how amazing you are.

What happens to boys in tech is in many ways different than what happens to girls in tech. it's not that they're facing sexism per se: it's that they don't think it's cool. So I think we really have to change the way we present technology.

There is a seductive simplicity in Donald Trump's vision to build walls and ban refugees to protect American interests. But we must always remember that we create far greater opportunity for all Americans when we enable the creativity and entrepreneurial spirit of people globally to take root here.

We're being told that America is a zero sum game - that the dreams of immigrants come at the expense of those native born and that the religious freedom of some threatens the security of others. But we know this is a lie.

A movement only takes form from that first act. Exploring a curiosity, or a real passion, and being motivated by a desire to solve something - that's really the best way.

Too many times we just think about our ideas, and we let people convince us not to do it.

Part of the success of Girls Who Code is that I am a hustler. When people ask what my biggest strength is, it's that I'm shameless. I will ask people for help even when I don't know them.

I was full of pride when President Obama talked about coding in his last State of the Union address. I was proud when Chicago recently made computer science mandatory as a requirement for graduation. To see this elevate to the level of a bigger conversation is progress.

Coding - everyone thinks it's a superpower. And so when you feel like, 'I've learned how to code,' and you say to your mom or the girl sitting next to you, 'I know how that app is built, I know the logic behind how that was created' - that's powerful.

Hillary Clinton was a hugely important mentor for me. I don't talk to her every day, but sometimes mentorship means being able to watch somebody's leadership from afar.

In the '80s, society created a caricature of what a hacker or a programmer looked like: a guy wearing a hoodie, drinking energy drinks, sitting in a basement somewhere coding. Today, programmers look like the men we see in the show 'Silicon Valley' on HBO. If you look at the message girls are getting, it's saying, 'This is not for you.'

My family was one of the few South Asian families in my community in Illinois. Growing up in the '80s, I remember going to the K-Mart with my mom, when she was wearing her sari, and she'd get made fun of. People would ask my mother, 'Were you born with that dot on your head?'

Girls Who Code doesn't exist solely to discover the next great female technology icon, although that would be great! In addition to coding, the girls at our program learn to pitch ideas and products, present themselves professionally, and interact with colleagues at every level of a company.

I never take for granted how lucky I am to be an American and what a privilege it is to spend each day at a nonprofit dedicated to helping the next generation of girls achieve their dreams. My journey, as the daughter of refugees, shows what refugees and the children of refugees can create for all Americans.

I was in my 30s when I quit my job and ran for Congress. So often, we're told it's OK to take these big career leaps when we're in our 20s, but we cast such an unfavorable light on those who take big risks later on in their careers or when they start families. There's enormous pressure to have it all figured out.

For the American economy, for any economy to grow, to truly innovate, we cannot leave behind half our population. We have to socialize our girls to be comfortable with imperfection, and we've got to do it now. We cannot wait for them to learn how to be brave like I did when I was 33 years old.

I give my e-mail out all the time - my team doesn't love that! People e-mail me or tweet at me or LinkedIn me. I've learned that oftentimes people just need five minutes. People just need to touch somebody real and have a connection for a moment.