My Narrative Essay: My Journey To America?

I can remember it like it was yesterday. My parents left me when I was fifteen years old to go to America. I thought to myself for one year, they left me here to starve, live, and die alone in eastern Europe. When I was sixteen years old I got ready to move to America and start a new life. I thought to myself I wonder if my parents are dead or alive. They really didn't mean anything to me anymore anyways.

Awoke from a brave man who sailed the sea. An idea, a chance of hope, was born. Battled for an identity of prosperity for all, consequently we rose up to become America the land of inalienable liberties straight from our maker. Growing despite dividing America has always overcame division growing smarter and tougher through her conflicts. We truly became America when all of America got equality and so America gave down rights to all her people.

The first eight years of my life, I spent in India where I was born. Growing up I was constantly reminded by my parents that I needed to make them proud by getting a good job and living a good lifestyle. They told me this because they did not want to see me live a hard life like they did. When I was nine years old, I moved from India to the United States of America. The reason why I moved to America was not because I was living a bad life in India, it was so that I could have a better education and more opportunities in life. When I came to America, I had to go through much struggle. First and the most important was that I did not know how to speak English. Apart from this I was very shy, so I didn’t communicate with people frequently.

When I was about the age of 8, I was living in Nepal, My family was a middle class family, which would be considered poor in America because 1 buck here is 100 buck there. Even though we weren’t the richest we weren’t the poorest either, life was pretty good as far as I knew. Until my parents told me that we were moving to America and that it was the best thing for us to do. My head started rushing with many questions. How about my friends? What kind of people are going to be there? Where will we live? I didn’t know whether to feel excited or sad, my emotions were very mixed.

A challenge I have had to overcome throughout my life is fitting in. When I was four years old I was adopted from the country called Kazakhstan. I came to America at four years old and I lived with my new mom and dad. Throughout my life I have looked for what I am good at and what I will love to dedicate my life too. But due to not having my real parents there I never really knew who I was. I feel like people find themselves through the guidance of their family, I never had my real family so I found it hard to figure out who I was and what my contribution to this world is. Yes, my new parents are amazing, but there were two people in particular who stood out to me and I aspired to be like them one day. One was my uncle peter, he died three years ago due to brain

January 11, 2013, I wake up to yelling, prayers, and crying. I walked into the kitchen where all the noises were coming from and I found my mother on the floor crying, talking on the phone with my godmother. My father was there by her side, trying hard not to cry while supporting his wife. I didn’t know what was happening, this was the first time I’ve seen my mom so vulnerable and broken. My parents didn’t tell me anything other than my grandmother was in critical condition at the hospital, but with god's help she would overcome this hard time. My mom hung up the phone and went to “La Grande” a Mexican store to buy a card to call my uncle in Cuba, to see how my grandmother was doing. My godmother has two daughters who work at the hospital

1) I could make a long list of what I accomplished in my life such as winning Most Valuable Player award, but there is one thing that I prize the most and made these accomplishments possible: Moving to America.

Today I will be talking about the first time I came to America and how it has changed my life. When I was five years old, I started first grade in Turkey. I was afraid because my parents signed me up late and I thought I wouldn’t be able to make friends. Both my parents came with me for the first day of school and I made them wait outside of my classroom because they couldn’t come inside the classroom. The first time I entered class, all the kids were with their friends and the teacher had assigned me in between two girls. They were the sweetest people I could have had, and I wish they were still in my life now.

Imagine waking up in a house that is not your home. You do not know what the morning routine is, what is eaten for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, or even know what is and what is not appropriate behavior. In the movie Coming to America which was directed by John Landis, Eddie Murphy’s character, Prince Akeem, is in for a cultural shift when he decides to move from Africa to Queens, New York in order to find his princess. In the film, Akeem is exposed to how Africa differs from America when he discovers the differences in power distance, work ethic, and the value of money.

As a teenager moving to a new country with a different culture, different language, and being thousands of miles away from everyone I grew up with was not an easy change, however, that was precisely what I did in January of 2013 when I came to the United States with my father. My whole world changed since, and shaped my way of thinking. From learning English, adjusting to a new culture, experiencing my first snow and finding my way in my new country, my life has been an exciting adventure.

More than twelve million immigrants will make their first stop in America at Ellis Island Immigration station in the years ahead between 1892 and 1954, at least that's what we read. Who knew a small island in the New York Harbor would become my life saver ?

What makes someone an American? This is a question that has so many answers because so many people have different views on Americanism. One person might claim you have to be born in America, some might say you have to be raised in it. While they are not necessarily wrong, others will have a different idea. Some people view Americanism as an attitude, not a nationality. It is how you present yourself to others and to the world. They believe Americanism is based on the American people, not the American land. To them, being an American is about understanding their values and ethics and going along with them.

Its 1914 and I just got the news that we were finally going to America! We have been waiting for several years trying to save up money and figure everything out. Going to America is almost every ones dream here in Europe. Just like Oscar Hammerston said, “ You gotta have a dream. If you don't have a dream, how are you going to make a dream come true.” Most wanted to go to America to escape poverty, famine, or to get religious freedom. We will be leaving tomorrow. I will go to America with my mom and sister, my dad is already over there. We will have to walk about 60 miles to get to the boat and then the boat ride over to America will be a long and grueling journey. My mom hollered at me to start packing. She told me I could only bring two

I used to have this grudges in my heart when everything go hard that would made me wanted to blame my parent. But I can’t because I was not raise to think that way. When I come to America, I was eleven years old and no one asked me if I wanted to come it just happen in a second. I was in a cold place with extended family that I never met before and that one person who raise me and made me feel secure was still back in the country. I had to lived months without her and next thing you know I adapted and convince myself they are doing this because the wanted the best for me. It been ten years since I have not seen Haiti. I miss the smell, the people, the ongoing language, the natural food and the atmosphere. This trip is very important because

Anxiety, it’s the feeling that came over me when I arrived at the airport to come to America. I was born in Brasil, it was my home. So boy was I shocked when I heard that we were moving to the United States, and I was only six years old. My parents thought we would have a better life here in America because, with all the “opportunities” it offered, it was the place to be. My father flew over one month before I was scheduled to; he planned on getting everything situated by finding a job and a place for us to live. Even with all the American movies I watched, my favorite being Batman, I only had a vague idea of what it would be like to live there. My mother would tell me, taking advantage of my young guilble mind, that I would love it, make a