Personal Narrative: Growing Up In America

I had the grand honor of being born into a culturally diverse family. Although Dominican culture dominates our customs, we are 25% Middle Eastern from Lebanon, and 25% Spanish from Barcelona, Spain.The cultures have all laced into each other in such a way that I find it utterly ordinary to eat Arabic food while listening to Dominican music while serving Spanish desserts. My parents came to America at around the age that I am now, met each other, and my mom had my first sister at 18 while my father was 22. My mom went back to high school to finish her GED while my father enrolled in an institution that he never got around to finishing because his english was not well. My parents never got the opportunity to further their education because they had my sisters and I at such an early age. My parents have worked since the day they stepped foot in New York precisely so that I could get the prestigious education that they had always longed for. My parents separated when I was eight years old and my father was never really around after; as a

My identity has always felt inextricably linked to what Miami is. A city that is teeming with immigrants, a city with dreams stacked and slopped atop each other, and a city that is living proof of the failed American dream. I say so because of my early observation that generation after generation of immigrants often seemed to stay trapped in dead end jobs; I saw this within my own family – within my grandmother, my aunts and uncles, and even my cousins. Here it was even within my own family tree the deep implicit message that there was no way out of our socioeconomic level. When I made it into an Ivy League college, it was a message that was slowly re-enforced by the fact that my demographic was the most represented in the custodial staff rather than within my own classmates. I often wondered why, and the answer slowly became obvious within my own experience. Throughout college, I was often distracted from my studies because of economic and personal pressures. I slowly came to realize that being able to focus on your goals is a privilege that is often not granted to individuals of a low socioeconomic level. The stakes were high for my academic and professional goals, but they were often seemingly made unattainable by personal pressures.

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

The most critical event of my life was November 11, 2013 the first time I boarded an airplane to the United States of America. It was the scariest but happiest time of my life experiencing it with my father and sister. I was afraid of heights, so there were times when I told my father I was too afraid to board a flight. I never actually imagined myself boarding a plane owing to the rigorous processes in acquiring a United States visa. I was extremely happy to celebrate with my dad and sister. However, it was a humbling experience to know how different the world is, and at the same time, how similar our lives are. Traveling can be critical but, what makes it interesting is the adventure, food and companionship, and new things.

As a child of immigrant parents, my formative years in elementary and middle school were shaped by two important factors: the environment in which I lived and my background. My parents worked hard to settle into a new life in a foreign country to provide better opportunities for our family. This meant that we had to be flexible about where we lived due to relocating for jobs, and fluid about our ideas of culture. I recall the daunting nature of moving to a new city, twice, as a child. The prospect of leaving everything that was familiar to me and forming new friendships in an unfamiliar environment was a challenge. Through each of these moves however, I met people from differing backgrounds and learned to cross cultural barriers. I became accustomed to

The American Identity is more than just being a citizen in America. What makes the American Identity is the diversity that exists in America. America is a melting pot, which consists of many ethnic groups, religions, and ideas. It isn’t the appearance that makes you American, it is your mind and the way one acts make one American. I am a kid who is part Korean, French, and Chinese. My mom is Korean and Chinese, and my dad is French and Chinese. I do celebrate Lunar New Year with some of my relatives on my mother’s side, but my dad doesn’t celebrate any French holidays. To be qualified as an American, one must be unique in their own way, and love freedom.

Being a child of immigrant parents is not easy. You are constantly living in the fear that one day you’ll wake up and you parents won’t be there with you anymore. Specially now that we have a new president, things are getting more challenging. But don’t get me wrong, I live a happy life. I am proud to call myself a Latina. Being a child of immigrant parents has taught me so much. For example, being able to work hard for what you want. At school, I always strive to get A’s. My parent’s have taught me to never settle for anything less than a B. They know that in order for me to go to college and be successful, I not only have to get good grades but work hard to get there. I love a good challenge. Sometimes it’s not about the obstacles you face,

I come from a large family with relatives from a little ranch in Chihuahua, Mexico. Many of which have never made it past grade school. Mainly due to their mother, my grandma, she had fallen very ill. Due to her condition and lack of money my aunts and uncles dropped out of school to work and help pay for her medication and medical expenses. The older siblings had to take care of the younger siblings. Which for the younger generation of the family, my generation, schooling is top priority. They are always there to lend a hand to the best of their abilities to see us succeed. I am taking this very seriously and I am not going to let them down. They have come way too far and fought too hard for me to disappoint them.

I was born in a country six thousand miles from here, Mongolia. The better half of my childhood was spent playing soccer in the street with the neighborhood kids. I was content, surrounded by my loving family and amazing friends, until it all changed with an abrupt decision. I had reached the age where I had to think about my future beyond high school, whether I would go to a college, and where I want to be in life. Mongolia was not the most ideal country to achieve success, thus my parents decided to move me to the United States. With that, came both good news and bad news. Good news, I had a chance to start my life over. However, moving to a whole new country does come with its challenges. The first couple years were the most difficult times

When it comes to success, people have their own definitions. Some people may define success as having a job that suits them and by the joy they feel when they are in and out of work. Others may define success as having a surfeit amount of money without the need to be happy at their work. In the book, outliers, Malcolm Gladwell defines success based on the careers of the well-known and rich people and he mentions that they have achieved success because they are the best at what they do. Gladwell also believes that anyone is capable of achieving success if they work hard enough and that the people who are mega-successful such as Bill Gates or Michael Jackson got where they were because of thing such as their geographic locations, their specific college experiences, the opportunities that they were presented with in high school, or even the month that they were born in. Throughout the book, I found myself

I'm from the Dominican Republic and I have 4 years living in the United States. When I came to the united states I was 13 years old, it was not easy for my brother and me to start a new life in another country without our mother. Learning another language was the hardest things I have ever done in my life.

I am a first-generation Hispanic-American. Being born and spending my childhood in south Florida made my Hispanic culture so accessible that I would think in Spanish instead of English. In my home, Spanish was the first language spoken since my father and mother are from Panama and Peru respectively, and most of my family did not speak English. I was so immersed in my family’s culture that I even learned the “Peruvian dance”-Marinera. I loved walking into my home and smelling the fresh Peruvian dish my mom was cooking. That was all about to change. In 2009, Florida was struggling with unemployment and real estate issues. We moved to a small town near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania called Cranberry Township. We moved because my father’s job transferred

Immigration a strong word that defines and that my family express there feelings to. At the age of 3 I was just a little girl running around the house in my dipper playing with my older brother. I do not clearly remember what happen even though I was present I had to ask my mom about it. Both of my parents migrated from Mexico to the United States when they where around 17-19 years old in 1990. My parents met in the United States a year after, my mom got pregnant by my dad and had my older brother by September 1992 and 2 years later I was born. I heard the story behind my parents struggle on how they got to where we are now but one thing that stood out the most to me was when I was 3 years old and my mom told me my dad had gone to immigration jail in Mexico.

I was born and raised in Sierra Leone, Africa. I came to the United States when I was 11 years old. I was happy for the opportunity to come to the United States and go to school. In Sierra Leone, only the rich get to go to school. I worked hard in school, taught myself how to read and write with the help of the Lord. When I started college, the environment became too much for me, I fell into depression. I felt lost, and empty. My grades were suffering. The harder I studied, the more my GPA suffered. I thought about dropping out of school. One day, I got on my knees and started crying, and talking to God. In that moment, I felt at peace with myself. I started fasting, and reading my bible continuously. I fasted for two weeks, at the end of my

Being Belizean-American has offered me a unique cultural experience. Belize is a small developing country located on the Yucatán Peninsula. I’ve witnessed first-hand the beauty of the culture. Life in Belize follows a rhythm of its own, teaching me to be open to adventure and discovery.  Being Belizean-American to me means finding those perfect moments when both cultures come together in harmony. Moments like Simone Biles dominating in the Olympics not only representing the U.S but also Belize. For such a small country to produce such amazing people inspires me to go beyond the institutional limits of race and class.