Personal Narrative: Coming To America As Immigrants

I was born in Southern Los Angeles and lived in a conserved community of predominantly hispanic immigrants seeking socioeconomic prosperity for their families and an adequate education for their children. My family was a part of this community and as such, I was always met with a high standard for education and was taught to fully appreciate the benefits that followed it. I would constantly be reminded of these benefits when I would continuously witness not only my own family struggle, but when neighbors and friends also struggled to provide essential payments for their utilities, food, or rent. These financial struggles stubbornly persisted to haunt my family and in 2008 we were in no position to maintain our home and consequently lost it. This drastically strained family

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.

As an African American wife who recently joined the western migration, along with my husband, I am optimistic about the opportunity we have to become landowners. Thanks to the new addition of the 13th amendment, my husband and I are considered lawful freedmen. We now have the right to live a lifestyle opposite of the suffering we endured back in the South.

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.

In this letter tells of how I crossed the border between Mexico and the United States. I left my house in Guatemala at 4:30 in the morning bound for Mexico on 28 January 2002. Arrived to a central bus station in Mexico about 7:00 in the morning, where there was a man who would help me cross the border. I remember very well we took a bus as about 7:30 in the morning, while in the bus the man gave me a passport with a tourist visa for me to use to cross the border. The passport was from Guatemala, if I remember right, I do not remember under whose name was made the passport. The man advise me that if we were stop during the trip in Mexico, to say that I was going as a tourist to Los Angeles, California in the United States. The trip was very long at a time I fell asleep on the bus when the man woke me we were in another central bus station in Mexico that I do not know the name. In reaching this station we got off the bus, to use the restroom, and eat at the same center, we were there for about half an hour. After stopping at that station we did stop 5 more times, which were carrying gasoline and we could eat. We arrived to Tijuana on January 31, 2002 at 7 in the morning. Arriving at Tijuana we got out of the bus and the man who was going to cross me and someone else told us that we were going to need on a bench and wait for 20 minutes. After waiting 20 minutes, we started walking to the border line, the man was ahead of me, and the other person behind me.

obstacle that I have ever faced, especially with the fact that there was a time where I didn’t

In 2009, the U.S. Census gathered that there were over thirty-three million second-generation immigrants living in America. America is a melting pot, and in this melting pot, it isn’t uncommon for these children, myself included, to lose sight of what our lives could be–and the struggles that our parents faced to ensure that we have more opportunities than they had. As I write this essay, I’m stressing over the things any other American high school sophomore faces– grades, social drama and statuses, and my follower count on Twitter and Instagram. These “problems,” if even that, are minute to what others our age face around the world. Young adults in Sudan are starving, and young adults in Syria live in the middle of a war zone. As far away They raised two kids: my 19-year-old brother, who is currently a freshman at the University of Georgia, and myself. Thanks to their hard work, I’m able to worry about the things I do. Never have I worried about not having food on my plate, about being denied my education, or being forced to leave everything I know and abandon my dreams. It’s easy to forget what my parents have done for me, for the opportunities and doors they have opened for me. There’s no way to understand your life–the privileges you hold–without understanding the past. You must be thankful for all the things your loved ones have done for you, and I’m sure that I am. I can’t imagine my life if I were in my parents’ shoes, if I faced the struggles and hardships they did, and I know I wouldn’t have the courage to be as decisive as they were and are. Their perseverance and determination make me content with my life now, knowing that it could be much worse. Their experiences motivate me to capitalize on what they gave me–to become something. I want to be sure that my parents know I’m thankful and know that I will work hard to become what they didn’t have the opportunity to. 11th Grade Columbus High School Anjali Patel 5th

My family has always been the center of my universe. They’ve taught me the importance of being united and taking care of one another—because in the end, all we truly have is each other. My parents have raised me to be a good daughter, sister, and citizen. They’ve shaped me to be respectful, responsible, and virtuous, knowing these values will last a lifetime. But above all, my parents have instilled in me an appreciation and eagerness for education.

First generation immigrants sacrifice their adulthood in search of a better life for their family and for future generations to come. My father came from Peru to support his family. He was the first person in his family to come to America. He works in road construction from morning until night so that my family is supported. The desire to repay both of my parents is the belief that guides my life.

Coming to America with my parents when I was about 11 years old was a new adventure for me. There were a lot of changes that needed to be made and experiencing new things. I would have to make some adjustment and getting used to the American culture and learning the language they speak. My parents had made a big sacrifice coming to America. Living their home country just so my siblings and I could get a better education and better life. As we all know, life in America is not that easy when you are newbies. As an 11 years old kid, I wouldn't know what to do or how to help my parents when they are going through a tough time. All I do was go to school, come home, and do some reading. Besides, school wasn't that easy for me because I didn't know English and I couldn't communicate with the people around me nor the teachers. I was the only kid who looks different in my class and has no ideas what the teacher is talking about. It was uncomfortable for me to be around my classmates, but everyone in the class seems to be nice to me because I was the new kid. They didn’t have problems with me and I didn’t have problems with them. As time goes on, I began to feel

Many immigrants came to this land of prosperity and the land of freedom to give their kids a better life and education. “ I brought you to this country now, do something with it.” (from the article The American Dream Lives On by Yasmina Shaush). I understood this quote because my parents also brought my siblings and myself to get a better education and I plan to do so, to make them proud.

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 ?

Growing up in an immigrant household in America, was difficult. I didn’t live, I learned to adapt. I learned to adapt to the fact that I did not look like any of my peers, so I changed. Adapted to the fact that my hair texture would never be like any of my peers, so I changed. Adapted to the fact that I was not as financially well off as my peers, so I changed. Adapted to the fact that unlike other people who have families of four, I had a family of seven and numerous amounts of close relatives. That my parents, although lived in America for quite sometimes grew up in Nigeria, so English was not their first language so I adapted and changed myself in order to fit into societal standards. I learned to understand and interpret my parents’ native Igbo dialect but left that part of myself at home so that people will view me as the perfect American citizen.

I spent the first half of my life on an island 210 square meters in area in the middle of the Pacific and the last half travelling the world and much of the United States. 1st generation immigrants from the Philippines raised me and it was from them that I learned the definition of hard work and true perseverance. Guam, the forgotten territory of the US, is a melting pot of various Asian influences with a distinct Spanish heritage and a culture that has shaped me to my very core. After growing up with so much exposure to different groups of people, I am a firm believer that diversity and respect for other cultures is integral in being an effective and competent healthcare worker. My opportunity to be president of my church’s “Christian family