Cultural Autobiography

My parents always wanted to give their children the life they never had. I am Mexican-American, both of my parents immigrated from Mexico to the U.S. before I was born. I have numerous relatives, including my older sister, who do not have the same opportunities I have to achieve success because they are undocumented. For them, college was only a dream that could never be attained. Being the first U.S. citizen out of my entire family affected the way I thought about life. It was expected that I would attend college because I was the only one who had access to all the resources granted to American citizens. Although, I agreed with my family, the pressure to succeed and be a role model to my younger siblings was overwhelming.

“Mom, will I ever be treated as a regular person? When will I be like the others without people look at me in a strange way and make fun of me, when mom? When?” Those were the questions I did to my mom almost every day after getting home from school. Fourteen years ago that my parents brought me to this country offering a better life with better opportunities than where I was born. I was seven years old when came to the United States, but I still remember the happiness I felt when I first step in this country. Throughout the years, I have realize that not everything is easy and simple as I imagined. My parents worked in the fields because of the lack of a social security and not knowing how to speak English. Many Americans do not know how hard it is the life of an immigrant, they should have a consideration for us and not just blame us for the deviance of the United States.

My mother is a enormous factor in my ethical thinking. Till I was about five years old it was just me and her. She is a strong working women and nothing can stop her. For the longest time I didn’t really think anything about it. It was just me and my mom against the world. I came to realize that she was someone I wanted to grow up to be. No matter what happened she was always there for me. Another big factor was my Aunt. She was about sixteen when I was born and thought the world of me. No matter if she was really young she would help my mom take care of me. She was never afraid to tell me what was right and wrong. With my aunt being so young I saw her grow up into a mature adult. Many people I am friends with are because

Living in the United States wasn’t any easier for my dad. Having no parents meant he had no permanent home. He lived with his sponsors that helped him come to the United States. My dad knew very little english and was enrolled into high school. There he and many Hmongs were discriminated by other students. After graduating High School my dad received his first job where he worked for minimum wage. Even though having a job my dad still had no permanent home. He moved in with his uncles that treated them poorly. My dad had to sleep in an attic that had a broken window in the harsh Minnesota winter. That night it was twenty below zero and my dad had three thick blankets on still struggling to stay warm. After thirty long years our family has came a long ways. Today we are fulfilling the American dream in the natural state of Arkansas.

The first time my mom went over to my dads house for dinner it showed how different their cultures are. They all sat down for dinner when my mom noticed there were no forks, confused she asked where she could get them. My dad and his family all laughed and proceeded to eat their dinner without forks and instead with tortillas. Later on, I was born into this mix of american and hispanic culture. My parents have shaped the cultural identity I have from the type of food I eat, my hobbies, and the values I have.

I was born in Dallas, Texas but when I was 3 years old I was taken to my parents’ home country, Mexico. My mother took my younger sister and me to Mexico while my father stayed in the United States and worked to provide for us. I spend 6 years in Mexico and I went to school there. I had an amazing childhood in the place my parents were born and had the opportunity to grow up around my family and culture. I became a fond lover of the traditions and the peaceful life of what I consider my country. I have many amazing memories from living in Mexico. The way everything called for a celebration where everyone was invited. The dedication that every festival I attended showed. Simply all the traditions that even when I live miles away from Mexico have stuck with me, things I still celebrate with my family every year. I love to be able to call myself Mexican American and to be able to share my parents. My love for Mexican culture plays a role in my decision to want to go to Spain. I want to see where some of the customs I know originated from and see where my ancestors came from.

When I first saw in the syllabus the type of paper we would be writing for this course I thought about what culture means to me. What was the culture of my family? Where did we come from? How did we end up in Virginia? How did we end up believing some of the things we believe? To me culture was basically how I was raised—my behaviors, beliefs, values, and ideas cultivated during my youth and its evolvement as I grew into an adult. This truly was to be a very interesting and involved quest for information. Though I attempted to use websites such as www.genealogy.com and www.ancestry.com, I found most of the information from a couple of the adults in my family. Adults? I, too, am an adult, but in my family, age comes

My dad moved to the United States at a very young age. He crossed the border illegally many times trying to pursue the American dream, but despite of all the failures he never gave up. On the other hand, my mom moved here with a visa after marrying my dad. Both of them struggled to survive, especially since their lifestyle was completely different.

Hr parents never really cared if she did her homework or studied for a big test. She made it to bed on time so she wouldn't be too tired the next day. So eventually when my mom had her first child at a very young age, she dropped out of school and nobody even tried to stop her. However they were always there for her and just like any mother she taught my mother right from wrong. Just like my mother my brother dropped out of school. I feel like compared to how my brother was raised and me i got the better set up, even though i always had a full time father i still got the better more responsible experience version of our mother. The one that cares so much if i get a good education ifi study for my test, and do all my homework. I feel like i can really connect with rudy from “the red headed hawaiian” when he was the same experience with his mother and the huge gap in between when him and his oldest sisters. The same thing for me and my brother that sixteen year gap really changed in which mother my and my brother got. The support system that i am gaven with my friends and family is really amazing and sometimes i think i take advantage of it. My support system i believe really changed my cultural identity because of how i view the world around

My parents did not come to San Diego with a lot of money, they only had ten million dong when they came, which to me sounded like a lot but my mom laughed and told me it was a thousand dollars in the U.S. For my parents, this meant they would go homeless in two months if one of them did not find any sort of work. For the first month, it was very difficult for them to find a job because they did not know how to find one. My mother would tell me how my father was a very strong man and yet no one would hire him because he would not know what to say during the interview. My mother would tell me how there were many nights she would fall asleep crying because she would think back to Vietnam when she was with her family and friends, where she did not feel limited or restricted by anything but money, and how now that she was here in San Diego, it was not only money but also her opportunity to socialize and communicate with many of the people around her. Even with my father by her side, she felt helpless and excluded from the community, like she no longer had a voice. Fortunately, near the end of the first month, one of the Vietnamese neighbors actually noticed my parents and greeted them. This man had a family and welcomed my parents greatly. He even helped my father find a job and get access to government services such as rent assistance, Medi-Cal and Food Stamps. Many immigrants share the same experiences my parents

After I safely captured the insect I identified it as a burrowing bug with the help of the internet. I put the insect into clear Tupperware dish and it started to walk around the edge of the dish looking for a way to escape. The insect was helpless in trying to escape or to climb the edged of the dish so it just stopped trying to look for a way out. It only took a few minutes for the insect to give up about trying to escape and it just stopped walking around.

When I walk into my human geography class every morning, I make sure to say hello to a friend of mine before I sit down. This friend is special to me. To my knowledge, he is the only person in my school who has pronounced as being gay. He stands alone in our school. Only he and a few others in our community have had the courage to stand apart and exclaim that they are interested in the same sex as their own. Just so you know, I am a Christian and I was raised in a loving family with a mother and a father who taught me the ideals of a devout Christian. As a follower of Christ, I am instructed to love my neighbor as myself and I try to live up to that expectation. One social issue that is of most importance to me is the harassment of people from

There is nothing quite like a Cultural Autobiography to make you reexamine your life and upbringing. I was born into a normal Jamaican family, ten fingers ten toes was all that was needed back then. I was the youngest of two sisters and one brother. My parents were unmarried and my sibling, who I grew up with and I shared different fathers. As a family we never discussed family members outside our immediate families and with only half siblings the idea of we figured our distant relatives were either family or complete strangers. My earliest memory has always been of me and my older brother getting into trouble and our sisters scolding us. The oldest was 8 years older than me and she took the role of our guardian due to our parent’s careers. My father was a Police Officer and my mother was a Certified Nurse Assistant both hard working and devoted Christians. This is in line with the majority of citizens in Jamaica.

How does a person begin to write a narrative of their own life, relating events and ideas back to their own culture? Well, first, I’d like to give some baseline information about myself. I am a white, middle-class, educated, mid-western, Christian female athlete. I come from a traditional family with a mother, father, one brother, and two sisters. Taking those characteristics into account, I would say that I am a privileged member of society, and being privileged has been part of my culture. In addition, the largest influences on my life and worldview were my family, school, church, and the area I grew up.

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