Personal Narrative: My Experience In Colombia

Because of this lack of English education, we fail to assimilate the students to be functioning members of the United States. The way we are able to assimilate students is to create better programs for students who are learning English; that way, when it is time to enter the workforce, they will be able to understand what it takes to move ahead in this country. The article states that “Good bilingual immersion programs provide such an environment by giving English speakers and English learners ample opportunities to interact in and out of the classroom.” Assimilation relies on the need to acquire the social and psychological features of a group. Most Latino students in schools today hold a very small grasp on our language and our social system, which is partly due to the rampant segregation.

I’m able to resonate with a plethora of things, yet the thing I consider my identity is I’m an adopted, Haitian immigrant.

My earliest exposure to people who were racially or culturally different from me was through television shows. This was when I was 6 years old. I remember I was so happy because my father just bought a brand new TV. At that time we don’t have cable and all we could watch was the basic TV channel and one of the show that usually plays was Charlie Angels. I remember for the first time I’ve seen Farrah Fawcett who have blonde hair, blue eyes, and speaks English was so different from me I thought.

There was not much to do as I grew up in Haiti. I would sit outside for hours until the sun would set, the darkness consuming the little light that once remained.  I didn’t know anything besides my house; my mom believed that our safety simply lay inside the house and anything outside was dangerous. Growing up, I didn’t have my father around because he came to the United States in order to provide for his family back home. At the age of seven both my immigration papers and my sister's were finalized, and we were able to finally be with our father. Unfortunately, our mother was not able to come with us. When we got to the airport, I hugged my mother and said goodbye.

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 experiences as an immigrant have certainly been difficult in some cases of racism, but I have generally been accepted as an American

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 a five-foot tall Hispanic girl, I literally see the world from a different perspective. I was never the type of person to feel confident under my own skin because I belittled myself instead of embracing my physique, culture, and gender. As a young girl, I was inspired to run for president after reading a biography of George Washington, become an astronaut after seeing Apollo 13, and a computer scientist after learning about Bill Gates, but I was discouraged to pursue those careers because I am a girl.

Being born and raised in a culture and then uprooting your life to pursue opportunities in a different culture can be hard in three ways. First, speaking a foreign language and then coming to America where majority of the people speak English can be difficult to adapt to. When a person has grown accustomed to speaking their native language, it can be problematic to have to pick up an entire new language. Possibilities can be limited because of the restrictions on one’s ability to communicate with other. Second, if a teenager comes to America from a foreign country they will have to take on responsibilities that they normally would not.

My Trip to Haiti It was the beginning of my junior year in high school and there had been much talk about a school trip to Port Au Prince, Haiti, Only ten students could attend this trip, applications had opened up in November and for me a trip to Haiti sounded like just a dream, I thought I was not able to afford it. The idea for the possibility to travel to a new country and be exposed to a brand new culture excited me, I made the decision to apply anyway. In December, I received news that I had been chosen as one of the first ten students from my school to go on this new service trip. I was so excited that I was even qualified, but also worried because I knew that the price was still an issue.

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. This exposed me to certain microaggressions, such as If I was really born here and if I speak English. I have received a mix of positive and negative messages from those who are of my same

Very few, if any, immigrants have the chance to learn English before traveling to the U.S. Because of this barrier, it is nearly impossible for organizations such as the Border Patrol to warn, aid, and communicate with them as they travel to the U.S. Although there are helpful signs along the border, they are written in English and are therefore indecipherable. Furthermore, the language border hinders an immigrant’s ability to survive in American society once they arrive. English is the written and spoken language in almost every city, thwarting immigrants’ opportunity to find jobs and interact with others. As they struggle to communicate, they become ostracized and do not fit in.

I wouldn't be the person I am today without the experiences and where I come from. It all started from where I was born. I was born in Port-Au-Prince, Haiti on January 22nd 1995. Haiti is located in the Caribbean, and there we speak two languages fluently, Creole and French. All my family from both my mother’s and my father's side we all come from Haiti. I don’t remember much from the time I was there, because I was very young. I left Haiti when I was about five years old, I went to France with my cousins and aunt and stayed there until I was about eight or nine years old. From there I went to the United States to be with my mother in New York. The majority of my life I spent it in New York with my mother. It wasn’t until August 2014 I moved

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.

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

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