Personal Narrative: Longing For Ausin

“This country has so much beauty. We were deprived of opportunities and now they’re everywhere. My family can learn. My children can play. I have been granted my humanity.”

I have been doing some thinking about our conversation a few days ago and have concluded that I will take you up on the offer! I just sold my old bike and now have some money left over that I can use to pay for those seminars. I am going to see how soon I can get this done, I am going to look at the dates and send my form in. I will keep you posted on the status of things as they get processed.

The day started out normal. I got up and ate breakfast.(It was an egg and bacon sandwich.) Then, Kari told me that I needed to read. So, I went upstairs to get a book. After I found the book that I wanted to read, I went to my room.

One warm Friday afternoon two summers ago, I was invited to go on a trip to Carowinds. I always wanted to go, so this was the perfect opportunity for me. To experience something, I have wanted since I was a little girl. I remember sitting on the sofa at my boyfriend’s house in their den watching tv and his mother came in talking to us about how she wants to plan a little trip to Carowinds. To get away for the weekend and have a good time and relax.

Ding! “Mom the timers done!” Anayelli rushes to the oven as if she was a Speedy Gonzalez. We all thought it would be a good idea to attack her because we wanted to get our bread fast. But since Anayelli thought differently then we all did, she decided it would be a good idea to smack our hands with a spatula.

K is for Key West The previous week, I was in Disney World in Florida. I was with my mom and step-dad waiting for the bus to take us to the park when I received a call. She had texted me before asking when I got back, and then asking if I could go with her. I couldn 't believe this was true, so I replied “CALL ME”.

When I was three years old my mother decided it would be best for us to move to America so we could have better and safer lives. Before I started school, I was sheltered from American culture. I could barely speak English, I only knew hispanic songs, and I only ate “Mexican food.” By the time school started, I felt like an outsider, everyone was speaking in a foreign language and eating odd foods, I felt out of place. It wasn’t until third grade when I began to feel like I was part of my classmates.

Have you ever been to State Convention or ever wanted to go there? Wondered what it was like up? How many people are gonna be there and how many you may know from other contest you did with them? Number of people getting their proficiency award or State/American Degree? I came to school Wednesday Morning at 7:30 with my bags to go to State Convention.

Day 2 Immigrant. That word gives me a label here. I am crossing the border to the U.S because my parents think it will give us a new beginning and a better life. I think they’re wrong. Our life in El Salvador was fine: We had a nice house and we were healthy.

I walked into the small cottage kitchen with a bowl of steaming soup, and I saw my grandma and my grandpa sitting amongst my family. They all seemed very controversial today, so I walked to my table with my soup and sat down slowly. Mother looked at me with a sulking expression when I placed my napkin on my lap and started to eat my slightly warm biscuit. “Something very important happened today, my dear.” My mother looked down, as if she were trying to tell herself this was just a dream.

My father, Chingachgook, my brother, Uncas, and I were visiting our friends on the Frontier. Life on the frontier was hard, and days were constantly filled with fear and hard work. People living on the frontier grew their own food, and lived in log cabins. The French and the Indians constantly would attack because they wanted everyone to fear them. While we were on the frontier, we learned that John, the father of the frontier families, did not want to volunteer in the war because he feared Indians would attack his family.

Cultural Identity Which culture do I originate from? Many will ask themselves this question, and be baffled by it, as many don't know themselves. I identify myself with the Mexican American culture,that is misinterpreted by many. My view of one's self identity is what we feel deep inside, it's where we belong and not where we want to belong due to others opinions or judgements. Growing up as a child in a mexican household was as typical as possible Mexican music,Mexican food everything Mexican as possible.

“There’s not much you can do here; if you want you can go home, that is completely fine with me.” Unable to compete and train, I was now useless to both the team and the coach. It would have been convenient for me to capitulate and indulge my laziness; to sit at home after practice every day while my teammates were hard at work, training to better themselves. I refused to accept my coach’s suggestion to surrender. I refused to throw in the towel.

I still felt like I was doing something wrong, but it was very interesting to see how other people reacted to me violating social norms. There was also this sense of wanting to hurry eating and to finish my experiment as soon as possible so that I could explain my actions. After I finished eating and completed the experiment, I was quick to divulge the reason for breaking the social norms of restaurant etiquette. I felt relieved that it was over and I could go back to adhering to typical North American social

Life Across the Pond It was seven am, and already the sun was unbearably hot. All the children, in their pressed navy blue pants - or jumpers for the girls - with white shirts tucked in, smelling of starch, were queued up in lines of two - boys and girls - doing our periodic, but tiresome, morning "exercises". "Hands up. Hands out. Hands down," the loud voice over the PA system rambled on; it was so quiet that the voice reverberated throughout the entire school courtyard.