Immigrant short story Essay

When the ship finally arrived at America. I was feeling excited yet apprehensive. I felt excited to see this new world that had been all the talk on the ship. However, worry was practically eating my insides; where would we go? What would we do? Would wild animals attack us? How would we earn our living? Would there be savages waiting for us? Where were we landing? Would we be sent back? What would the people be like? Would I still be able to go to school? Would we have to live off the land? (If so, I could take Carlotta and Sancho with me)! I could not bear the thought of another few weeks cooped up in that ship. Of course, I was nervous, and there were butterflies in my stomach, too!

It takes just twelve minuets for the lives aboard the USS Indianapolis to change; through a devastating event the sailors must learn to deal with their fears in order to survive. After the sinking of their beloved ship the stranded survivors fear help will not come. “ A quick survey turned up three rafts, provisioned with tins of spam, malted milk tablets and four casks of fresh water, not much for so many men, but it was better than

The days were spectacular, always sunny the deck was very fun to walk around and the meals were good as well. I was traveling third class with my eldest sister Mae she was 21 years old I was 15. Our Mother had bought us tickets to ride on the Titanic to America for a better life and enough time for us to start over. Our Mother gave us most of her life savings and leaving her was one of the hardest things me and my sister have ever had to do, we knew it would be the last time we ever saw her. I will never forget her last words to us “I love you both so much I want you to remember that your mother did everything she could to give you guys a good life. You will be in my thoughts everyday I can’t wait until you guys succeed in the ways I know you can.” After that she sent us onto the boat Mae and I couldn’t help but tear up a bit until we realized that she had every intention for us to be happy, so we decided we’d enjoy the

Upon boarding the ship my wife and children were separated from me. I did not know where they were or what they where going through for the duration of the ride. Nor did I know if they would be alive at the end of the trip. You see, we were among a slave ship. A ship with a crew that was so brutal, treating us in such cruel ways. I had never witnesses such brutality and neglect in my entire life.

I was all packed and ready for the journey. I was very frightened, because I was leaving the only place I knew. My family was not coming with me and I missed them. I was riding a stinky old steamboat to America. I was not excited for the long journey to America. The food smelled bad and I was uncomfortable, but I was going to America so I tried to keep my thoughts on that. At least I was waking up to a better life in America.

I completely agree with your post. It was very sad reading some of these stories and how they were treated. Just within the first story about the child that was shot dead by the watering tank. Workers now a days, I like to think are not deprived from their basic human rights. Migrant workers work depending on the seasons. My grandfather for example would work up north until the winter came along and then he would come back home. At times he would come weeks at a time to be with the family but would always go right back to work. Also the ways the students were treated in school because they were Mexican is very sad, and hard to swallow knowing some of the humiliations they had to go through. You are right prayer was something many families

There are bombs exploding that sound like drums. Guns shots that sound like the ring of bell and the screams of the fallen soldier that sound like all hope is gone. Families are being separated and taken from one another, not knowing if they will ever see them again. They have to move to another country, and try to adapt to the new language, the new food, the new clothes, and the new people. While dealing with all that they have to try to be accepted by these new people who don’t understand them and their journey. This is what immigrants have to endure when war has struck their home. Immigrants face many challenges when they are adjusting to their new life style.

When my mom told me to pack some clothes I asked her why she told me because we aren't we are going to Wisconsin to be with your family and ice cream with my brother when she told us it will happen in my room and she told us I was reading a book when it started my mom came in you don't me pack some clothes in your back she told me why where are we going mom I told her my mom told me to tell my brother Alex to come inside my room and said Wisconsin and said we're going to Wisconsin to see your dad's family oh yeah going to see my baby cousins next thing that happened we were in the gas station putting gas on the car and getting some chips and sandwiches then we were on the road and we were in Arkansas City my dad told us we were asleep during

“Freedom isn’t free,” William said. “Freedom and individual responsibility require hard work. Some people are willing to give up their freedom in exchange for nanny state liberalism. That’s where this nation was once heading before we turned things around. Here in this barn right now you have people exercising their freedom to choose to be a part of a community. In Canada, the government makes that choice for you. So, you have to ask yourself, would you rather live free, or supplicate yourself to a system that places no value on the

One of the biggest challenges that I've encountered personally was being an immigrant and learning to cope with a new culture in an advanced country, the United States of America. Compared to my hometown, my family and I used to live in a small village, located in Burma, known as Myanmar. Unfortunately, many received unfair treatment and uneven distribution of wealth because of races and the military’s inability to rule the government well. In order to overcome those difficulties, we migrated to the United States, a land of “freedom,” as I have heard. As an immigrant and teenager, I was shocked to see how different education and living systems were compared to my hometown in Myanmar. One of the biggest challenges I have, academically, is persisting

Today was the day we were heading back from Hell. It has been an amazing five days with, Kevin, Corrie, Fi, Lee, Robyn and Homer. I was the only one who was allowed to drive the Landie. It was Dad’s orders and I followed them. It was really weird on the last night of our camp there were these low flying planes with no lights on. They were flying so low that we could see the marks on them. The marks weren’t ours. By the time I’d finished writing that down it was time to go. We’d finished packing that Landie and started to head off. I had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right about those planes I just couldn’t put my finger on it. We were home before I knew it. Something was wrong the dogs weren’t barking. When we came

Ouch! I screamed. I stayed still until my dad came. It felt like if water was running down my skull, I tried to clean it I looked at my hand and it was blood. I freaked out and began to scream “dad”!

What I am most proud of, is the fact that I am a hardworking immigrant. In today’s divided society, immigrants are stereotyped as “non-contributing to society” or “largely uneducated”. This ignorant stereotype is a constant reminder of how hard I should work.

In my high school, I am the only student in both college French four, and college Spanish four. Many of my friends have asked me questions along the lines of “Why would you do that to yourself?” For awhile, I would chuckle and simply state that I liked the teachers. It wasn’t until I started to travel more that I realized the real reason I chose to learn more about these two cultures - from France to Mexico to Canada, what I have realized is that we are all connected. Though there are language barriers and physical barriers between all peoples, everything is linked. I am a global leader because I am trying to break down those barriers to become more united with the world and the people inhabiting it.

Well, today is the day! After two years of me wiping tears and sheltering hearts, my soldiers get the opportunity to be in the presence of their father (cue fireworks and marching band). YAY (hint of sarcasm)! For me though, this is a time filled with mixed emotions. This is a day, I'm almost certain, that many single parents who lack the physical presence of the other low-keyed parent will cringe at.