“Go back to your country.” Those five injurious words were tormenting enough to make me wonder if I was different, if being “foreign” felt different. The answer was yes. Hearing those words made me feel like an outcast. While growing up in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, I was surrounded by lovely parents, siblings and friends who looked out for me. It wasn’t until the day I heard someone say those words that I realized that everything really had changed. Not so long ago, my family and I immigrated to the United States in search for a better life and more opportunities than we had in the D.R.C. We had to sneak away from our comfortable home in the small town we lived in, hoping that no one would see us leaving. We spent about five hours on the airplane flying to our capital, Kinshasa, where my family and I spent about two months living in a two bedroom apartment in some pretty uncomfortable conditions. Then we spent about 19 hours flying to the United States. Despite the conditions we encountered and the hours spent on our journey, we finally made it, however, settling in wasn’t easy, but we survived. …show more content…
When I was returning home, there were adults waiting in front of the school building for the bus to unload. Among those adults stood my older sister, holding an umbrella that shielded her from the rain. I was glad to see her after spending three days of camping with people who mistreated me because I was different. She opened her bag and gave me her potato chips, holding her umbrella over me as we walked home in the rain. She asked me if I had fun at the camp. The answer was no. But instead of telling her the truth, I lied because my family had enough
Many people are raised up by the idea that the society they live in always needs more adjustment, and other people around them are not always friendly. I am also one of those people. Since I was little, I was taught by my father not to trust anyone around, and not to pay too much effort into any kind of relationship. Even though I might not necessarily agree with him, I still followed his advice for years. However, I always ended up feeling lonely and depressed.
Francis had to experience many different things when moving to America. Any person from another country that speaks a different language would have trouble in a new place. I am going to tell you about the changes you have to make to come in a different placed. The hardest thing to get used to is the language; everything is more difficult when you don’t know the language. Even to get a job is harder you might not know what your boss is asking and get fired.
When I was six years old, living in Ethiopia, my dad won an American green card visa lottery among 53,000 people. Although it was exciting news, family members were discouraged because my dad could not afford the visa processing and traveling expense. However, he found a sponsor in Seattle, which allowed him to settle in America. As soon as he found a good house and a stable job, he started the process for me and my family. Multiple errors and obstacles delayed our processing for five years.
At the age of____, I left everything behind in Armenia and migrated into the United States of America to start a new life. Even though I love my paternal land and do not forget where I come from, the fact that I could pursue a career and become a productive member of the society encouraged me to move to America. To my great misfortune, I was persecuted for being politically active in my own country and I could no longer fight with the authorities for violating my civil rights. I had the potential of facing more dangerous situations than I was already in at the time. I am my parent’s first child
The simple and easy answer is, a chance at having a better life. I sometimes ask students why they came to The United States. For instance one young lady was from China. She had a bachelor’s degree, worked in an office, had her own car, and I got the impression her family was fairly well-off. When I asked her why she left her friends, family, culture, and what sounded like a comfortable and satisfying way of life she replied, “Safety, security.”
Introduction Throughout history, the United States has been the melting pot of immigration. Many people of different races, religions, and reasons came to the United States; either willingly or forced. Either way, immigration to the United States is what our country had been built on. Immigration had begun in the early 1400s and its activity has only increased, but for a multitude of reasons.
Visas In the book, Ask Me No Questions by Marina Budhos, the reader gets a first hand look at the importance of doing the right thing and how it can affect an entire family. The story is one of immigration and the fear of exportation. Mr. Hossain is the head of the family. He is referred to as Abba by his daughters Aisha and Nadira.
Imagine being forced out of your home by a war only to have to travel on a long journey to a completely new place because you heard it was safe there. For many immigrants, this was a reality. While not every immigrant came to America because they were forced out of their homes, some did. Others came to America for the opportunities that they were promised. Work was a major pulling factor, in the early 1900s, when America was still growing, jobs became rapidly available and many immigrants used this as an opportunity to come and start a new life.
I was born in Taichung city in Taiwan. And I was raised by Christian family and grow in church basically and go to Sunday school when I was still a child. In Taiwan, Christian is pretty rare and compare with other religion. However, my parents are super busy and most of time they are dealing their jobs. And also my father go to China to work, therefore, left my mom have to raise my brother and me by herself most of time.
I was born in the Dominican Republic, and at the age of seven, I received the great news that I would be moving to the United States. This was a huge change for me, and I was excited to start a new life in a new country. However, I quickly realized that I was not prepared for the challenges that came with living in the United States. One of the biggest challenges I faced was the language barrier.
With everyone now aboard the cruise ship, I can’t even hear myself think! The sound of adults and children overwhelmed with excitement and bursting with laughter fills the sea air. “We’ll be departing for the Caribbean islands shortly,” exclaims Captain George Johnson. This is my cue to start making way to my compact yet cozy room to unpack my belongings for my ten day trip.
Many foreigners want to come to America mostly in search of greener pastures and to further education. It was about seven-years ago when I stepped my feet on the soil of the United states of America, and I remembered vividly how it all started from a dream. I was born in the western part of Africa, in a country called Nigeria, the motherland with enormous beautiful colors and culture. I am from the hot and humid air of Benin, from dusty dirt roads and sweltering sun. I am from Nigeria, the giant of Africa, where I saw the monstrous faces of war.
Moving to a new country can be difficult sometimes. Leaving all my relatives and friends back home was the saddest thing for me. My mother told me that we were moving to a new country. At first, I thought my mother was joking about it. but little did I know that she was telling the truth.
Moving is always hard. It is harder if you are moving from your birthplace to a culturally different country after spending most of your teenage years. I moved from Bangladesh to New York about a year and a half ago and let me tell you, it was not easy. I had to leave the place I grew up in, my friends and relatives and start a new life here in America. Probably the only good part was that at least I was with my family throughout this hardship.
“Our Bold Path to Prosperity” is the compelling true story of my life as a refugee immigrant child from Indonesia to Holland; a tiny country on the continent of Europe and ultimately to the United States; a world power country on the continent of North America. It is the story of our search for a better life, as told by my loving mother and grandmother while I was growing up and as I remember living it with my younger sister. Although the dates sometimes may not be historically accurate, the experiences are true and consequently, the deep emotion with which I composed each chapter is genuine and gut wrenchingly heartfelt. The story begins with my grandmother who was born to Muslim parents on May 1, 1910, in Banjuwangi; a port city located near the