Living in Nicaragua, I have developed many relationships among the lower class. These relationships gave me time to reflect upon myself and be grateful for the resources I have. Communicating and spending my time with the children on my parents' mission site, I have come to understand the children and their circumstances of financial hardship. This time of serving gave me a time to understand myself and helped determine my future goals in my academic life and career.
One particular relationship I had was with a boy named Kenner. Kenner is a nine year old boy who got struck by lightening two years ago and survived. No longer able to focus while speaking or communicating with others, he still does not go to school nor receives any type of education.
I was born in Colombia, South America and lived there until I turned seven. Before I moved to the states, I attended a public school and was on the competitive swim team for my school. I earned many awards the year and a half I swam for my school. I took pride in competing with girls three to four years older than me. I also remember how different things were there than they are here in the states.
My sleep schedule is not a hearty one; my dependence on caffeine, therefore, is. Waking up and smelling freshly brewed coffee mixing with the cold, brisk morning air is bliss. Now, add riding a warm bus through a foreign land. This land contains every variation of forestry your brain is capable of imagining.
One thing is a dream in serving God, and another thing is to do it. When we came to the US with Adriana, my wife, was a new star for us. We got married before came. However, also was a new beginning in my ministry… God planted a new and bigger vision in our hearts.
This autobiographical essay will define my experience as a Dominican immigrant living in New York City. Being an American citizen with a Dominican background are extremely relevant to the process of political socialization. My family background is founded on the principles of democratic values, which taught to me by my mother and father. In New York City, I found a “melting pot” of different immigrants that allowed me to feel more accepted as a Dominican living in the United States. More so, these aspects of the socialization process provided a foundation for my belief in democratic values throughout my life.
My parents and I moved to the Dominican Republic when I was thirteen years old. Living there as a young American came with many challenges. One of the biggest threats against foreigners is violence. Within my first years of living in Dominican Republic, I had experienced two incidents at it firsthand. The first incident happen a week before school began, I was mugged by two assailants; man on a motorcycle and another man on foot.
There were rice plants on my left and farm animals on my right. I grew up in New York City, so you can imagine the millions of questions that were running through my head. I’d never been to the countryside of the Dominican Republic before, but when I finally did, I couldn’t be more ecstatic, despite the scorching Caribbean sun burning down on my brown skin. I hadn’t visited the Dominican Republic since I was four years old. All I had was vague memories of my grandmother’s boisterous laugh and the chickens in the backyard I loved chasing after.
Growing up in Honduras was quite an experience. I come from a hard working family where both of my parents went through several obstacles to provide me and my siblings a stable life. Honduras is a country that is consider a third-world country where economy along with delinquency are a big issue, but my parents still manage to provide the sources for me and my other two siblings on what it is necessary. My family and I were affected by organized crime, a day where my life was changed forever. It was a Friday afternoon when my brother and my father were kidnapped, they had left to a soccer game.
Going through every security checks and bag checks, I anxiously waited until it was my turn. There were thousands of people standing at the baggage claim waiting to claim their luggage and others were rushing to the gate to catch their flight. I happened to be one of those people. Sitting in the cold lounge, waiting for my flight to El Salvador to arrive, all I could think about was my mother’s last words before she said goodbye. Her exact words were “I promise, I will be there soon.”
I was born and raised in the southernmost past of Texas in a city named Brownsville where diversity is almost non-existent. Growing up in a city with one of the highest poverty rates was surprisingly not as much a struggle as you may think. My father had a decent job with a salary of around 48,000, but that number varies every year. He is the captain of a shrimp boat and has owned his very own boat a few times. For this reason, my father was frequently absent in my life and still is to this day.
I smiled gently as my feet sunk into the warm sands of the Punta Cana coast. During a short snorkeling expedition on the magnificent coral reefs, I was abruptly awoken by a loud series of bangs. Who was outside the door this time of night? As the banging got louder, my anger quickly morphed into terror. My mind began racing with the infinite possibilities awaiting me outside the safety of my bedroom.
I’m able to resonate with a plethora of things, yet the thing I consider my identity is I’m an adopted, Haitian immigrant. I was born in Haiti in 1998, in a small village in Thomazeau, I moved to Croix-des- Bouquets right after my birth and I lived there until I was 9 years old. My family's financial situation was adequate. My mom was always able to find a way to make ends meet. This cause our neighbor to be envious of us.
I identify as a Latina. I have always considered myself as a Latina, but throughout time, I believe that I have assimilated more into a white individual because of the privilege that I hold and because I have lived in the US most of my life. I have received mostly negative messages from those who are not from my ethnicity. My peers and I were told we wouldn’t graduate high school and be laborers for the rest of our lives. With the current politics, I believe that this still holds true where some people still hold stereotypes and give oppressing messages to Latinos.
My mother’s father had passed away and it was heartbreaking. The one man who really made my time in Ecuador good was gone. Before my trip to Ecuador I saw my myself more as an American than an Ecuadorian. I was accustomed to the U.S lifestyle such as going to baseball games or eating hamburgers. In my home, we spoke Spanish, but more often than not I spoke English.
In my life ive had lots of memorable events , but the most unforgettable one was my graduation trip to Cancun Mexico. when I first found out I was going to this trip I thought it would be so easy as in just get up and go, but no this trip took tons of planing, the most important part of this trip was getting my passport that took about five weeks to arrive, once I received my passport then I was able to start booking my flight, that's when the excitement started,then I booked my hotel. I took care of all the important things then I started looking into placing and things I would be visiting such as beaches,water parks, entertainment shows,shopping centers,restaurants,etc The day arrived off we go to Cancun my boyfriend,friends and I, We got to the airport early that morning went thought security then we grabbed are tickets found are gate number then took a sit while we wait for the plane
I grew up on a land where February is carnival month. Sunday is family day, and every day is as hot as the day before. Being the most Brazilian as someone can be, I was born surrounded the typical Brazilian stereotype and moving the U.S. at the age of 13 expanded my culture and values. Growing up in Brazil, I matured following their rituals and customs. Family is a big aspect of the Brazilian culture, so family is the most important thing to me.