Personal Narrative: Personal Experiences In Abraham Lincoln High School

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When my mom and her siblings arrived here, they were in some sort of shock. They arrived here in the middle of summer. When they walked out of the airport, they saw people in such revealing clothes that they all felt the need to avert their eyes. It took them a while to grow accustomed to the lifestyle and the people here. My oldest uncle and aunt enrolled in Queens Community College, while my mom and her two younger brothers all attended Abraham Lincoln High School. My mom was supposed to be a senior, but started as a junior because the grades in Pakistan were different and my mom was a little behind, considering she wasn’t really too interested in books. One of brothers was also a junior, while her youngest brother was a freshmen. They knew some english; schools in Pakistan were modernizing and teaching English as an elective. However, from personal experience, I can only imagine that they barely knew any. Having taken spanish for six years, I can barely speak more than two sentences—let alone hold a full conversation. It isn’t hard to understand their struggles.
They adapted quickly. They fit right in and tried to focus on their schoolwork. At least that’s what my mom and her junior brother did. Her freshman brother didn 't follow that path. He somehow got involved with drugs. It never got too bad, but it was the end of the world for my grandparents. They blamed the American culture. My grandmother was a bit dramatic, cursing the day she set foot in America. She never

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