Personal Narrative: My Move To America

Challenge Essay Moving into The United States that has a different language has been the biggest obstacle that I have ever faced, especially with the fact that there was a time where I didn’t understand a single word of that language called English. This was a big obstacle in my life since I was raised in Mexico where the prime language, there is Spanish and that was the only language I knew back then, it was until the day had come where my family and I had to move into the United States due to the violence that has been happening in Mexico. I consider those times the most difficult ones of my whole life because I had to work triple than what I normally did in school in order for me to learn a huge complex language.

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.

I want to be a physician because I want people to grow old. At the age of 6, one of my closest friends was diagnosed with leukemia. By age 8, the disease claimed his life, robbing him of the opportunity to experience the privilege of growing old. Unfortunately, we live in a society of vanity. We see the process of aging and choose not to embrace it.

I want to start my story before I was even born. My dad came to the United States but my mom was still in the Philippines. Then when I was born in the Philippines, my mom took care of me for five years while my dad was working a minimum wage job in the U.S., trying to earn enough money to send both my mom and I to the United States so we could all have a better life, one where we could prosper more due to the opportunities that the U.S. provides. I grew up going to a public school from kindergarten to 5th grade where I met people of different races. When I was in school being in ESL (English as a Second Language) exposed me to even more people of color such as Mexicans, Middle Eastern people, Turkish people, Latinos, and other Asian people.

I don't know anything about this country, but having goals, that helps me be positive and believe that every single goal I can have in life and I can do it. I have to recognize that I always had people or friends that never will like to see my progress. This was the main reason that made me believe

Anxiety, it’s the feeling that came over me when I arrived at the airport to come to America. I was born in Brasil, it was my home. So boy was I shocked when I heard that we were moving to the United States, and I was only six years old. My parents thought we would have a better life here in America because, with all the “opportunities” it offered, it was the place to be. My father flew over one month before I was scheduled to; he planned on getting everything situated by finding a job and a place for us to live. Even with all the American movies I watched, my favorite being Batman, I only had a vague idea of what it would be like to live there. My mother would tell me, taking advantage of my young guilble mind, that I would love it, make a

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.

In order to find myself, I read a book. A book by a Haitian American struggling to find the middle ground of being raised in Haitian customs but surrounded by American influence. Consumed by the thought of reading stories with others who struggle to find their identity like I did, I read every book I could find. In that time I began to learn more about my hidden culture and more about myself. I learned about many customs and characteristics that come from being an American born citizen from Haitian immigrant parents, and the differences and slight similarities that shaped who I am.

To My Parents 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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

Today I will be talking about the first time I came to America and how it has changed my life. When I was five years old, I started first grade in Turkey. I was afraid because my parents signed me up late and I thought I wouldn’t be able to make friends. Both my parents came with me for the first day of school and I made them wait outside of my classroom because they couldn’t come inside the classroom. The first time I entered class, all the kids were with their friends and the teacher had assigned me in between two girls. They were the sweetest people I could have had, and I wish they were still in my life now.