Biographical Essay

My best friend Leah Nepomuceno is one of the strongest people I know, especially when it comes to family. Family to her is everything and she has done all she can to try and keep hers together as a whole. We were in sixth grade swinging on the swings outside at recess, whispering and giggling about our usual gossip when she received news from one of our teachers that we knew was serious by the look on her face and fear in her voice. She came up to us and told her she needed to go the office and that she was being dismissed, she gave me permission to walk with her inside. On the short but long felt walk inside Leah's heart was pounding, her hands were sweating, and her eyes were slowly filling with tears. Her mom was

My parents immigrated to the United States at a very young age. Having no higher education than elementary school, the only jobs they could find were working in the orchards. They would pick and thin apples during the summers, and prune trees during the cold winters. As soon as I was of working age, I would go out into the fields with them from early sunrise until the intense heat scorched our necks and faces. At a young age, I learned the harsh reality of what the daily life of an immigrant is. The long hours of hard work in the unforgiving heat of the sun; all for the low wages they were paid. These experiences in the orchard instilled in me a sense of drive to further my education and work hard to help families that were at a disadvantage as

My life started with my long and hard birth on July 14, 1993. I came into the world with a large scream and was immediately placed into some sort of category. The doctors and nurses took a quick look at me, and pronounced me as a girl. This social label of being a girl was now my gender, which is something I had no say in. Every since that very moment in time where my parents were told I was a girl, I have been treated according to my gender. This meant that my parents automatically dressed me in pink, bought me dollhouses and kitchen sets and threw me Barbie themed birthday parties. Since I was surrounded my whole entire life by these things, it was almost like second nature to think and act the way that I did and still do. My

Central Park West between 61st and 72nd Streets. I loved Thanksgiving Parade. It was realy amazing.

Amongst the jeering and bullying of my peers, I learned to be resilient, independent, and disciplined about my life and my studies—qualities that helped me land a volunteer internship at one of Canada’s leading think-tanks on economic policy, a term on a faculty committee last school year, and the opportunity to serve on the Academic Board of UofT’s Governing Council this year. Most importantly, however, my experience as an immigrant at the bottom tier of society taught me to cherish how I got to where I am today, to never forget where I came from, and to always look back and see how I can help those that came from the very same place. And although I have grown a lot since those difficult times, the lessons that I learned along the way will remain with me forever. I hope to put them to good use with an education in law and leave my little patch of the world in a better condition than I first found it

I had been born in Chile, but my father’s position as the Vice President of a shipping company there forced us to move to the United States when I was just a year old. Being so young had its advantages; I was able to still hang on to my roots of the life we had lived in Chile while laying down a foundation here in the US. As I grew up, that foundation was quickly built up through the making of friends, memories, and a social life, as well as in earning top rank in my school.

I stood in a small high school auditorium, a United States flag in hand, next to my parents. We were taking the Oath of Allegiance at our naturalization ceremony. I remember admiring the joy and excitement beaming off my parent’s faces because I knew after this moment they would finally feel American. I, on the other hand, found it difficult to embrace the same feeling. Instead, I thought of the years my family and I slept on inflatable mattresses, the adolescence I never had because I was my sister’s full-time babysitter and my parent’s accountant, and the excruciating pressure I had to cook dinner and pay bills by the age of 13. Growing up, citizenship was a concept that if attainable, meant I too would feel American. Yet here I was, finally

My American journey began with my mother and father who lived in India and Singapore respectively. Upon looking at suitors for her arranged marriage, my mother knew my father was “the one”. A well educated man who was the top student in Singapore, my father showed promise, dedication, and drive. “On a bright and beautiful day surrounded by friends and family”, they got married on May 17th, 2000 and emigrated to America (Raghuram). I was born shortly after on August 2nd, 2001 in Norwalk, Connecticut. Their purpose in moving was “to find better opportunities for education and jobs and to provide [me] with the best life possible” for which I am ever-indebted (Bala).

I was born in Mexico, and brought to the U.S at the age of 6 thanks to my step dad. When I first found out I was moving here, I assumed that I would not be as happy since I had to leave many of my other family members behind, including one of my older sisters. The more time I spent here, the more I realized I had misjudged the situation, and I knew I would have many more opportunities. As a matter of fact, I am very fortunate to be able to make a better life here because there are many more benefits. Adapting to my new lifestyle was not difficult at all. Learning English and making new friends swiftly helped me thrive as a young student, and it strengthened my social skills. School was always the best time I had because it has been my getaway from the issues that were occurring at home.

Growing up in a family with two older siblings always dawned on me. It was extremely difficult getting used to the fact that my brother, and sister would never have much in common with me due to the age difference between us. I recall so many different memories when I think back to my childhood, whether the memory involved my siblings, or my mother and father, those moments in time are still very vivid in my mind. My parents weren’t very prominent when it came to my childhood, and I completely understand due to the basic fact that they were hard working immigrant parents. They worked day and night to support my siblings and I. It was difficult starting a new life in a new country. My family had to build from the ground up to get to where we are now, and with hard work and perseverance, we’ve gotten extremely far.

Mrs. Bravo was my high school Spanish teacher. Mrs. Bravo is forty-two years old and was born in Guatemala, Central America. Guatemala is south of Mexico. Home to the ancient Mayan sites. Guatemala population is about 46,761,485 people. Doing Mrs. Bravo time there the Guatemalan Civil War was going on; latest from 1960 to 1996. Her mother worked as a housekeeper, a babysitter, and a home health aide. Mrs. Bravo mother has a third-grade education level. Mrs. Bravo attended school in Guatemala from Kindergarten to 5th grade. In Guatemala students attend elementary school from 1st to 6th grade. Then you attend three more years of middle school. After completing middle school students have different schooling options such as attending technical school to learn a trade, and or attending high school, and later students can attend university to pursue a profession.

Growing up, one is often exposed to different ideals and principles. As an immigrant from Mexico, I grew up much differently than those around me, those who were accustomed to the American lifestyle

I tried and tried all day to persuade my mother. Yet, she sent me to school the next day. I was more than terrified; one week ago I didn’t even dream of coming to the United States not at this age, fourteen, not even in my wildest thoughts that idea appeared. The sun came down, the moon came up, and then the sun began to rise again; the alarm rang, “it is seven o’clock, sweetie” mother said, “Rise and shine, your day will go just fine.” Mother had no idea of the

A memory that i will always remember, oftenly think of is a memory with my sister. I was about twelve at the time, she had just turned ten. Our parents had been divorced for a couple years, we were living with my dad in farmington while my mom was under treatment in rehab for opiate and alcohol abuse. We came home one day from school and started doing our daily chores while our dad was still working. Well do to all the tension in our lives at the time, and the fact that i hadn't be able to bear my sister since she was like four we fought all the time. Any little thing there was to fight about we did sometimes word sometimes bare knuckles. We agreed on doing the kitchen and that it was my turn to wash the dishes,

My parents grew up in Mexico, where they weren’t able to have the most pleasant childhood or receive an adequate education due to the difficult circumstances, but they wanted me to have a better life. They didn’t want me to struggle the same way they did; therefore, like many any other Hispanic families, they came to the United States to seek a better life for themselves, but especially for me. I’ve always looked up to my parents for being well-rounded, hard workers and optimistic despite all the obstacles they have faced. Even though, life can seem very tough at times, my parents’ hardships have taught me that anything can be overcome with determination and effort.