Memoir: A Personal Story Of An Immigrant

As a part of an immigrant family, there is no doubt that, as the oldest, I had to help my parents with English translation. Even though I have been in this role for years, it was not until recently that I realized the significance of my responsibilities.

Looking back to the past, before I was born, I never really knew where my ancestors came from or why they even came here in the first place. It was never made a big deal in my family to talk about our history and the reasons why they came to American. So, I decided to do a little research and find out a little bit about myself, my culture, and my communication styles. I asked for a little bit of help from my grandmothers from each side of my family. I got an abundance of information that opened my eyes to a new past that I didn’t even know about.

Welcome. A single word on the carpet by the door greets me whenever I come home. There had been times where that one word made my heart beat and cry with joy. But not now, for many things changed through the years. Now when I look at this carpet, I instead question back: ‘Do you really mean that?’

In 1992, a woman gave birth to my sister and I. Due to unknown reasons, at some point during the first year, she left her twins at the doorsteps of a local police station. My sister and I were eventually placed in an orphanage in Addis Ababa, where we would then go on to be adopted and brought to the US. We grew up in a loving home with loving parents, and all of our needs met. Our childhood was ideal in many ways and I grew feeling up very blessed. Our adopted mother loved us so deeply, and our father was always a provider, stable, loving father.

With the settlement of first immagrants to America, this has been the phrase in which they preach. I seemed to those from an outside perspective of America, that this was the place to be. This was no exception for my grandfather. His valuable lessons of dedication, persistence and passion have shaped me into the person that I have become.

It was summer of 2010. My parents were still married and we went up to Wichita Falls, Wichita to go see my brother Chris who was in the Military on base working. We stayed there for a week. I still remember the car ride up there. We rented a van, we had tvs in the rented van, my sister Rylee, my other brother Garrett (he was in the military too), my mom Traci, and my dad Doug, and my brothers military bag it was like a person. I still remember I had to sit in the back with that bad it was so big. Garrett put the seatbelt around the bag like it was a person. The car trip was so long but it was all worth it in the end. It was in the middle of the week and we were out on the beach. My brother Chris and his pregnant wife Ashley had a boat the water

One person can have the power to change a community’s perspective or sharpen it. As a Latina and an immigrant, my family’s experience has taught me about the process of entering the United States and the complications that follow. Still, my comprehension of social issues developed further the day I met my brother’s friend and classmate, who followed my brother home, unannounced, on the bus. I will call him Eric, my brother’s friend and his family are Salvadorian undocumented immigrants who seek political asylum. Eric’s family consists of a younger and an older sibling, and his mother. The only source of income is what his mother, who does not speak English very well, makes. Lately, this is what keeps me up at night. Thoughts of this child and his family consume my mind while I brainstorm ways of helping. At a young age when their biggest concerns

My dad teaching me how to drive is a dream. Seeing him come home every night from work is a dream. His attendance at my graduation later this year is a dream.

It was morning again and I was anxious waiting for the pound to open. That means I have another chance of being adopted. The man opened the door while talking to a young family of three that needed a fourth member. They had a little girl. She had long blonde hair, just like mine. The man shows them around, and then the little girl comes towards me. Her hazel eyes staring into mine like if she was looking straight into my soul. She whispered “ You are mine.” I tilt my head in confusion asking myself “ Did she just say that I belonged to her? Is this all a dream?”

It was called “Pomoshch Dom,” or “helping home.” It was large and wasn’t cramped with other orphans like us, only a few. I figured we would be sent to a horrid orphanage or something of the sorts. But this home was quite nice. We adjusted well and made good friends with the others staying there. Weeks later I was still shocked we were sent to such a nice place. When I expressed this to a girl I had met there, she explained to me that my parents must have written in their wills that if anything was to happen to their children, they would be sent here and their stay was to be paid by their life insurance. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of that before but it made much sense. Only a few days after I was told that, We were informed that Borys would be leaving. A family from Australia was going to adopt him. The other children seemed pleased and happy for him, but I was angry and worried and sad and anxious. My little brother, My Borys was leaving. He had lost his father and his mother how could they take him away from his sister and brother too? We were given days to say our goodbyes but it wasn’t enough. As he left I hugged him tight and reassured him over and over that everything was going to be alright. I told him he would love his new family and sometime soon we would visit him. After Borys left, me & Roman were expecting to get adopted. We both got adopted into nice families. I lived in New York & him in Ireland. Eventually we found

They had been previously unable to have children, there for they were considering adoption. Kathy had previously gone to assist a best friend in a Chinese adoption and fell in love with China. This made it very easy for Kathy and Dennis to consider adopting a children from China themselves. The Chinese Adoption process was long and tedious. My parents said that if every parent had to go through the process that they had to go through to have a children, many would not have children. The Chinese Adoption Bureau tries to interpret the reported personality traits of the parents and the Chinese children to product a good match. I was paired with Dennis and Kathy Christoff. My parents say that when I was placed in their arms they were overcome with

The infants were six months old at them time and the couples wondered if they were sisters. They asked the people at the orphanage to see if they were and they said they were not even related even though they were listed as having the same birthday. The couples feared that if they did not continue with them adoption that the girls would get separated far away from each other. So the couples took the girls back to Canada with them. They wanted to do what was the best for the babies, even if it they had to raise the twins apart from each other. The family’s now are trying to get together as much as possible, so that their kids can bond with each other. One of the twins after she got a little older said I don’t hate it. I don’t love it. Both of the girls took their first steps on the same. They both

Throughout life I have experienced numerous events that have shaped me into becoming the person I am to this day. Out of all these events, my adoption has been the most significant and life changing event of my life. Two weeks before my first birthday in, I was adopted from Nanchang, China. As I grew up, my parents never once tried to conceal my adoption. Without them, I believe I would have grown to be a totally different person. Although I was adopted and brought in by my adoptive parents, I see myself in the everyday. I see them as nothing less than my real parents and I aspire to be as generous and compassionate as they are. Without them, I would have never been able to experience half of the life changing events I have gone through. As

Ten years ago, I was only about 3 to 4 years old, and my parents had placed me in a daycare. It was right across the street from our school, and I went every single day, even on the weekends --- unless it was a holiday break or special occasion, of course. One bright, perfect day, when my mom picked me up to bring me back to our house just outside of Frankton, she told me that my dad and her had a surprise waiting for me when we reached home. After the 5-10 minute drive, we arrived at our house. We went inside and my dad was packing a bag like he was going to go somewhere to stay the night. I remember immediately being very thrilled because I thought we were going to go on a family vacation, and I ran to go pack a bag. My mom stopped me and told me what all I needed to pack: a change of clothes, pajamas, hairbrush, toothbrush/toothpaste, etc. She also told me to pack a book or game to play on the way there. I went into my room and packed, thinking about where we were going for vacation. When I was done, we got in my mom’s old white SUV and started driving away.

Adopting a child, especially internationally, can be quite challenging, but it can also be one of the most rewarding experiences that a family can go through. Families who adopt cross-culturally inevitably face a few barriers when it comes to acclimating a new family member into their lifestyle, but, I happen to know plenty of parents who have taken the plunge, and I have seen the incredible joy that has sprung from it. I decided to interview a family who has adopted because I believe that it is one of the most “diverse” experiences a family can go through. I have plenty of friends that have adopted siblings, and, personally, I would love to adopt a child one day.