My family has always been very united but one day my dad emigrated to America, I was 5 years old and missed him a lot because I thought he was missing out so many important events of my childhood and all the new things I was going through, but he would always tell me that one day I would come to America and I remember I would get very content about it but as I was growing up I was making new friends, meeting new people and “living life” that I forgot about the idea of coming to America. As years were passing by, my family began to tell me that I had to enjoy every second in my country since it was probably my last year in Honduras and I believed it at first but then it never happened so I was so busy with school that I never thought the day would come. It was July 31, 2013, when I realized that the day my family and I has been waiting for had come. I and felt so different and I knew something was about to change in my life, though I was unsure of what it was I did have an idea of what it could be. “The day has come” I whispered. Although I knew it would come I never imagined how soon it would be, my mother told me that I was coming to America, I had a feeling I never felt before. I could see myself with …show more content…
I thought getting in the airplane was the worst nightmare that could have happened to me but I was mistaken. My worst nightmare had not even begun yet, I got home (my new home) Norwalk, Ohio, then I found out that I had put my suitcases in the wrong place and they had gotten lost. I was already upset because I had left my family, I was holding on my breath so I would not cry but I could not hold it anymore and I started thinking and crying at the same time because I felt alone and was already missing my mother. It was not easy, and although it was one of the hardest things I had ever been through I knew I would get through
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.
(Summer of 1879) As an African American wife who recently joined the western migration, along with my husband, I am optimistic about the opportunity we have to become landowners. Thanks to the new addition of the 13th amendment, my husband and I are considered lawful freedmen. We now have the right to live a lifestyle opposite of the suffering we endured back in the South.
In this letter tells of how I crossed the border between Mexico and the United States. I left my house in Guatemala at 4:30 in the morning bound for Mexico on 28 January 2002. Arrived to a central bus station in Mexico about 7:00 in the morning, where there was a man who would help me cross the border. I remember very well we took a bus as about 7:30 in the morning, while in the bus the man gave me a passport with a tourist visa for me to use to cross the border. The passport was from Guatemala, if I remember right, I do not remember under whose name was made the passport.
Growing up in Honduras was quite an experience. I come from a hard working family where both of my parents went through several obstacles to provide me and my siblings a stable life. Honduras is a country that is consider a third-world country where economy along with delinquency are a big issue, but my parents still manage to provide the sources for me and my other two siblings on what it is necessary. My family and I were affected by organized crime, a day where my life was changed forever. It was a Friday afternoon when my brother and my father were kidnapped, they had left to a soccer game.
“What was it like?” I asked, scrambling to keep up with my aunt. She paused, her tall thin frame standing in the doorway. Dishes lay scattered around us. Dinner had ended hours ago, and everybody was upstairs..
Growing up in an immigrant household in America, was difficult. I didn’t live, I learned to adapt. I learned to adapt to the fact that I did not look like any of my peers, so I changed. Adapted to the fact that my hair texture would never be like any of my peers, so I changed. Adapted to the fact that I was not as financially well off as my peers, so I changed.
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. My parents brought me to America almost 5 years ago to have a better life, and to get a better education.
One day when I woke up I was getting ready to go to America. I was leaving with my Dad, Mom, Sister, and my Brother. My family and I are leaving leaving from Germany and going to America. We are going to bring clothes such as shirts, pants, underwear, socks, shoes, and hats. We will also bring soap, food, and other stuff like that to survive in America.
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.
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.
The day seems like will be a pretty good day. I was in my school. The classes were finished for the day. That day we had quizzes and and the professor we let out soon. I was wit my friends we were laughing, talking, and joking .When
I came to the U.S four years ago with my family. It was really tough to survive in the U.S without help from community or family. I have been working full-time with a minimum wage to help my parents pay bill and buy some grocery. I also have been taking full-time credit student during last four years. Every day of mine during last four years is working and studying.
One day my family and I went to Great America. It was a sunny day and there was no wind, anyways I really wanted to go on a roller coaster, it would be my first time! I was really excited, I was 9 years old so it was a big deal to be tall enough to be able to ride a roller coaster. The roller coaster was named The Grizzly, I thought it was the best one to be my first, so my dad and I got in line. We were the first in line, and when we got in the roller coaster cart, we were in the first cart.
form of condensation has formed over my window and leaves are flying in the wind, I wake up and say today is the day we leave for America. I walk into the kitchen and eat a bowl of porridge and my papa tells me that is the last meal we eat in France. My mama hands me two small leather bags and tells me I need to pack clothes in one bag and I could pack what I wanted in the other. As I pack my few belongings I think of all the things that I will do in America and all the opportunity's I will have.
Now I was still proud of where I came from however my life soon became more challenging, but how could I have stop fighting? I understood than the future could always change, but the past was already in for the long haul. Time went on and Elementary past, so did middle school then senior year came and little did I know that the past could become tomorrow 's; just another day where the past could live. My social status feed off of my success because the more I achieved, the more being undocumented came in my way. I felt as if my whole life was like walking in black ice and like a clock, time will repeat and so will my days.