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.
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.
I am an immigrant. The word that Donald Trump hates. The set of people that receives many blames for crimes or mischief. But after all, thats me. I am like any other person who gets blamed, I am an immigrant.
Moving to America brings great opportunity to an individual and their family. When my parents moved to America, success was within their reach. My parents could purse their education and soon find their career. My mother has always explained why she was so relieved when my grandparents first told her that they were moving to America. My mother knew that her and her family will be free, they would not have to live in poverty anymore. My father explained to me that life in Vietnam was not easy, my father stressed that life was rough in Vietnam. Kids had to work hard for their families, leaving them no time for school. Moving to America brought a great feeling to my parents, but when they arrived it surprised them the most.
This story about almost six years ago, when I came to the USA. Before I came to the USA I thought everybody will be different than me. For example, I thought that all people in the USA are white with gold, white, and brown hairs. When I land at the airport and I saw a lot people with black hair and not everyone were white. I said to myself, “I was wrong about the USA people.” After all, I got home and rest for two days. I was very afraid to go out not because I don’t like to go out. I do like to go out but I was afraid that people will … at me because I did not know how to speak English. Then I stated my high school in 2009. On the first day I was so scared to go to school. The USA school was different than Indian school. In India students don’t have to change their classes, when in here student has change their classes.
July 4th, America declared independence from Britain. Ironically, on July 4th, 1997, my parents came to the U.S , declaring independence from their own country. Christians in Egypt were beaten up, wrongly convicted, and killed. My parents did not want to raise their children in such a corrupt society and desired to come to America to pursue a better way of life . On November 26, 1999, I was born and my parents knew that this would mean a worse financial crisis. My dad spent most of his day working overtime and even then, he still had to ask for financial support from his brother. After saving just enough money to pay for rent, we rented a one bedroom apartment with roaches, fleas, and ticks. We lived off of food stamps and some government
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
My life took an interesting turn when my mother told me I would be moving to a different country, fear took over my body because that meant I would have to start from zero. On January 1st, 2011 my mom gave me the exciting news that her fiancée, now husband, had started the process to bring her to the United States so she could become a permanent resident, live with him, form a family and start a brand new life. I remember her face blighting up to every time she spoke a word but that smile faded once she told me I could not come with at that time because of the expense of the process. I understood why she could not bring me with. We had economic and emotional issues going on. She promised that as soon as she obtained her green card (permanent residency) she would start the legal process for me. I could then visit the United States and become a permanent resident.
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.
Moving from my village in Nairobi, Kenya seemed like a very distant and unimaginable situation which I gave no thought to at that moment in time. However, that soon changed when the news of our departure to a new country came to our doorsteps. My family and relatives were happy for us and as they gave their farewells but I felt longing to stay and not leave a place where I called home for so many years. We packed our stuff and headed to a nearby airport station where our journey would soon begin. We were gathered and waiting to enter the plane with other families like us who seemed to be headed to the same destination. I couldn’t help but laugh when looking at the plane thinking that it had no way of taking us to our destined point. I soon came to be wrong when it lifted off and began to fly above the clouds while the country become more distant with each blink of an eye. I soon remembered a past memory of a time where I flew a kite as reaching and soaring to new heights while searching for new places to discover like the plane that was searching for our next stop where we would soon live.
I remember the day when I landed in Charlottesville the place that I thought of as home. It was 17 August 2015. At first, this place felt so cozy and comfortable that I didn’t feel like leaving this place forever. The people were so welcoming; it was a treat to have chosen a college, which provides you a homely feel. If I remember it correctly, it was a warm Wednesday afternoon when I contemplated, is home the right place for me to grow?
A four year ago, I moved from Ethiopia to United State. When I was little I always wanted to go school in the U.S., so, we moved the summer before my freshman year in high school. I was enjoying summer, I visited my sibling in Washington and spend half of my summer in their house, I loved it. School started in August that year and I was excited. After a week of school, I realized what people saw when I talked. Everyone though I didn’t know anything. People made fun of some word I did not pronounce correctly, I was scared to open my mouth or even asked a question in class, because I though the teachers would ask me to repeat it again. I cried almost every night.
In Venezuela, there once was a time where people walked on the streets. In my hometown, there once was a time where people bathed in the lake. A time when all was marvelous and safe. I, however, do not remember those times. Nevertheless, my whole life has been based on witnessing the slow deterioration of my beautiful country. Now, inflation rates have exceeded 170% and the country takes the position of having the Second-Highest Homicide Rate. I have had to see how the poverty stricken country got worse everyday, how people desire to immigrate and take everything they can with them, how outsiders look at you with pity because of the reputation your country has. No matter how inadequate my country might be economically or how sometimes there is no electricity, water, nor food, I still love my country. Having said that, I didn’t always feel as proud when they asked me where I came from. The tough
On October 27, 2014, I had braces on my two front teeth. They needed to be straightened up.