How My Grandfathers Can 't Recall The Exact Day Essay

It has been 11 years since we have arrived to Los Angeles, California. I can still remember the feeling of when my father had said to us that he we would be moving to a far place to try to find better jobs for my mother and him because with the two jobs my father had and the washing and ironing of other peoples clothes my mom did was not bringing enough money to support my sisters and me and did they wanted to provide a better life for my sisters and me. Mexico was such a poor country that my parents could not see themselves make enough money to support my sisters and me, let alone see us get a better education. So my parents decide to migrate to the United States with one of my mother’s brother. We arrived in Los Angeles, California on

In this article Mexicans: Pioneers of a Different Type Gonzalez gives us an outlook different from what we generally read when taught about American History. His effort is to explain how each of the different Latino groups came. What was happening in their home towns that caused them to leave. If people want to accept it, eventually they will have to. That this country is bound to go through an enormous Latino population explosion. Gonzalez writes “Mexican Americans meanwhile, face a frustrating identity problem like that of Puerto Ricans” (pg97). Being a Mexican American myself I could agree that it is at times frustrating identifying. We are either too American to be Mexican. Or too Mexican, to be American. In 1749 because of what was called the promise

Part 1: My mom is from Guerrero, Mexico. My grandparents are from Guerrero, Mexico. But they currently live in Veracruz, Mexico. My dad is from the Mexican State, Mexico. But I am from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. My mom moved to Milwaukee in April of 1998. From the beaches of Veracruz, Mexico, to the big cities of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She moved here because she wanted to explore new things, to have a huge change in her life. From a rural areas with animals around, to a urban area with traffic everywhere. My mother came here illegally, by the borders, by walking in the hot desserts. My mom moved away from Veracruz, Mexico because she didn’t like the rural areas she was living in. Ever since I was born here, I have never moved from here. What pulled

My interviewee, Delia, is the child of Mexican-immigrants and was born in Mexico. At the age of eight, she was brought to the United States, which makes her one of many 1.5 generation immigrants (Feliciano Lec.1/4/16). For the remainder of this paper, my respondent will be referred to as Delia in order to conceal her identity. In this interview paper, I will discuss Delia’s family’s migration

My mother was 16 when she came to the United States on July 22, 1977. Maria Belen Carrillo is her name and it all took place at Pierdas Negras, Mexico. Originally she was staying with her uncle after her mother allowed her to stay only for a month. In the time, she became a nanny taking care of two children, cleaning the home, and cooking.

I became a part of Colorado history Twenty-One years ago. I came to Colorado in search of a new life. A new place to start my family, and twenty years later I am here with my family. I was originally born in Chihuahua, Chihuahua Mexico. I am daughter of Lidia and Jesus Ponce. Sister to Jesus Ramon and Perla Rocio Ponce. Colorado, has been a second home to me. I feel as if I have the best of both worlds. I feel as if I have the best of the American culture and the Hispanic culture. I am also a part of history because I had all three of my children in Greeley Colorado.

Eventually the Garcia’s trailed away from manual labor and began to work in the dry goods business. In many states of the United States, particularly in Texas, Mexican Americans faced prejudice and discrimination daily. Although there was constant violence and judgement casted upon himself and his family Dr. Garcia’s fight for survival and equality stood unshaken. Hector Garcia’s “youth was a lesson” (Sanchez Part 2). Dr. Garcia not only learned academically, but he learned through everyday life. He learned how to cope and live with the discrimination that would persist into his adulthood.

It all started when my grandpa, Manuel Marquez was 17 years old, he met my grandma and they started dating, he worked in the crops, picking up many fruits and vegetables, after that job he worked at a Super market similar to HEB. They lived in a small town in Mexico near Chihuahua. He stopped going to school in high school to work every day and help his parents out with bills. My grandparents soon got married and, they moved down here to Odessa, Texas.

A long time ago, in a land far, far away...there were a group of European immigrants looking for a better life. It was between the late 1700’s and early 1800’s when they first heard about a place called America, a land like no other. So, these immigrants decided to embark on a journey to this new land, because of their desire for freedom and happiness. They were chasing what we now call the American Dream. And guess what? These immigrants so happen to be related to me.

Growing up as a child of two born-and-raised Mexican parents has had a vital, positive impact on my life; it has shaped me into the young, ambitious man I am today. Shortly after I was born, I moved to Nuevo Laredo, Tamaulipas, Mexico, the birthplace of both of my parents and the most of my relatives. I resided in Mexico for seven years; I grew up in a charming town where it was a custom to take a stroll every Saturday evening in Plaza Hidalgo with an elote [Mexican street-food corn on the cob] in your hand.  In 2004, I moved back to the United States to the city I was born in. I have successfully managed to combine both my Mexican and American traditions into one beautiful and unique lifestyle. With the mindset of hoping to make my community proud,

I was born on Friday, January 4, 2002 to Mr. and Mrs. Reynaldo Sepulveda. The first born child of an anchor baby and an immigrant. My parents lived in Monterrey, Mexico for nine months after marriage. I was conceived there. My life would’ve been different if I was born and raised there. When I was about two, I was showing autistic symptoms. My mom was pregnant at the time and if I was diagnosed with autism, I would be sympathetic if she was raising two newborns: A week old girl and a three year old boy. By the time I was in Pre-K, the symptoms were starting to fade

I come from a family of immigrants. My parents and both of my older sisters were born in Mexico. My father came to the United States with his brothers in the early 90s. My mother, along with both of my sisters, came years later in 1999. Tania, my oldest sister, was six years old while Imelda, my other sister, was two years old when they arrived. My family has lived a fairly normal life here in the United

In the early 1970’s, before my grandparents met, they both crossed the Mexico border as teens. Given that, some of their family were in America, it made it much

Memory is defined as "the persistence of learning over time through the storage and retrieval of information." Our memory can be compared to a computer's information processing system. To remember an event we need to get information into our brain which is encoding, store the information and then be able to retrieve it. The three-stage processing model of Richard Atkinson and Richard Shiffrin suggests that we record information that we want to remember first as a fleeting sensory memory and then it is processed into a short term memory bin where we encode it ( pay attention to encode important or novel stimuli) for long-term memory and later retrieval. The premise for the three step process is that we are unable to focus on too much

February 2, 2015 is a day I will never forget. It wasn’t supposed to be a day that was going to have so much meaning to me but sadly it is. This event had both negative effects and in the long term, only a few positive effects. It was just an average day at school, getting by in my classes and going to gym class which is where it all happened. My class was playing field hockey and our of nowhere, a guy (I won’t mention a name) came up out of no where while not paying attention and ran into me. He didn’t mean to but he is just one of those people who I feel has no common sense at times and doesn’t pay attention but I do not blame him for it today. I fell straight on my back on the hard, wooden gym floor, hitting the back of my head giving me a major concussion.