Moving States Research Paper

I was so thrilled that I finally got to see them after a decade as well as exploring the pueblo that I had distant memories of. When we landed in Mexico, my brother and I immediately received many looks from the people over there. At first, I didn’t really think much of it, but as the trip progressed, I realized that they were staring at us because we looked “too American.” I found it humorous actually because they thought we didn’t speak any Spanish. When I ordered my food, they expected me to speak English, but as soon as I started speaking Spanish, their eyes lit up in amazement. Every time I spoke an ounce of Spanish, my extended family was surprised. Pretty much everyone was surprised. While it’s sad that they would invalidate me as a Mexican since I was born in America, I know that there is no perfect way of being Mexican since each of us are mixed and come from different

Moving far away from family and friends can be tough on a child at a young age. It has its pros and cons. One learns how to deal with moving away from the people they love and also learn how to deal with adjusting to new ways of life. Everything seems so different and at a young age one feels like they have just left the whole world behind them. That was an experience that changed my life as a person. It taught me how to deal with change and how to adjust. It developed me from a young boy into a mature young man.

However, at the same time, I wasn’t ready to leave my new friends, my new closeness to my family, and my accomplishments that I’d have to soon leave in the past. The thought of having to start all over terrified me the

When humans reflect on their lives they often categorize things by their location at the time of the event, grouping their college experience separately from their hometown high school experiences. This association with place causes us to view an unwanted movement as an attack on our personal way of living. I first experienced such an affront when I was in the first grade, my family and I moved to a small town about three hours away from San Angelo. My father wanted to be closer to his aunt and uncle so he seemingly forced me and to tag along for the experience. I didn’t want to move away from my grandparents or my friends, the thought alone would cause me to cry. I had to leave behind all my friends, my family I

When my family and I moved from Canada to United States 6 years ago, it was very hard for me and I had to meet and make a new group of friends. I was born in Canada, and I lived in Ottawa all my life until my family and relocated to Atlanta in 2011. At the time of the move, I was eleven years old and I had just finished Grade 5. I remember when my mom told me that we were moving to Atlanta, Georgia I didn’t know where that city was because I only knew the cities in Canada and not in Georgia. I was very sad and excited to move to a new city. I knew I would lose my friends in Canada but I also knew I would get to meet and make some new ones when I get to Atlanta.

It can help in many ways. Experiencing a new place can help on many levels. Some say it helps lower stress and anxiety. Not having to deal with the people back home and or the drama. Since going out on one’s own is a necessary rite of passage for all young people at some point, they might as well go big and move to another state where they are less likely to still be dependent on their parents. But moving out of state still can be stressful. Having to learn a new address, new names, figure out a way around the town or state, and remember where everything is located. Some ways to relieve the stress is to “Recognize the fact that it will be stressful, plan it out, consider hiring a moving service, stay organized, dress comfortably, and keep the kids occupied.”

My family moved to Texas changed how I viewed or felt about my how much family is important to me. When we first started packing for them to go to Texas they helped us pack to move too.We all had to do a lot because we had to do theirs and ours.

Time passed and I still hated Mexico. I complained every day, I wanted to go back to the place I loved, but a knife cuts both ways with a loose definition of origin, it’s effortless to feel as if you don’t belong anywhere. I started to see the bright sides of moving to Mexico, such as having my entire family with me and having more time to learn about the country I was born from and obtain pride within it. However, Mexico was not my country, it was always busy with people shouting and the school was not helping either. The school was far from accepting, everyone knew each other since kindergarten getting a new kid was like winning an exceedingly rare lottery. Everyone had a rough time adapting, but at the end, we all found our way, after all, intelligence is the ability to adapt. We stayed in Mexico for a year, this gave me enough time to fall in love with my country, I accepted the situation for exactly what it was instead of trying to manipulate it into what I believe it should be. However wonderful or substandard the situation was I would always find the solution. The traffic was unbearable, the city was too dangerous, my accent was confusing. I accepted these challenges so I could feel the acceleration of victory, I started to take the subway, never left the house alone and started to observe how everyone else spoke and copied their accent, even though hard work does not guarantee success, success cannot be achieved without hard work. We also gained a

My family’s euphoria refueled our motivation to chase the American Dream. I finally started kindergarten after 5 months in the United States. I had already finished kindergarten in Mexico, but due to my birthday being after August and because I was yet to learn to write and speak English, I was forced to repeat kindergarten. I was learning to speak English at a surprising rate. Everything was going more smoothly for the family. Although not as an electrician, my father found a job and I helped him with some of the English I knew to fill out applications and communicate with people. I finally started to feel that life in the U.S might be worth

Hearing others speak about things I didn't understand was hard, and yet worst not knowing how to respond to a single word I was asked. It was like being muted all day long. As the months passed we moved into an apartment rather than living with my aunt (mom’s sister). I also began to make new friends and learn to speak English. The bad thing was that my Dad’s family was 23 hours away instead of three hours. I had to say bye to six of my cousins until it was a holiday to go visit them. My grandparents (mom’s side) are now 10 hours away instead of 24. Choosing a the USA versus Mexico is hard. Here the only family we have are my mom’s siblings, my aunt and my uncle. That's why I love visiting my Dad’s side of the family because I have six cousins

This is actually very hard to answer. Growing up has been quite difficult for me. Besides the whole " I'm not legal here" stuff, I've faced more than a couple challenges. Coming here with no knowledge of what went on and why other people spoke different and had weird words I couldn't understand was tough. As well as having parents that didn't know anything either was worse. I felt like the pressure was on me all the time. I felt as if I had to know everything and be able to explain it (at the time I was the only child). The majority of my family lives in Mexico and I don't get to see them like other people do, but they have always been there for me even if it was through messages and social media. They've only got to see me grow up through

Out of the blue, I learned that I was moving from my birth state Maryland to Vermont. This meant a fresh new start.This also meant new people, which made me nervous about this move. In spite of starting my new school, I was still very timid and quiet. Even with a new school nothing changed. I just nodded and answered the teacher's questions. Then something happened. I made some friends.

It’s already hard enough to communicate through a phone. Every time we go, my aunt gets so happy because it’s been so long and all of my cousins that I remember as babies have all grown up. It’s a good feeling when you see relatives and friends for the first time in over six years. One of the times that I also went to Mexico was when my mother went to see a doctor. While she was there, she got really sick and ended up in the hospital. It was so bad that they told us that she probably wouldn’t make it. It was hard for all of us because we were all so far away from her and we couldn’t see her and the only one with her at the time was my father. My siblings and I decided to take a trip to Mexico to see her. The trip there took about 3 days because we went on a bus and we had no other way to make it there. When we arrived, my mom seemed a little better but she was barely able to do anything. It sucked seeing her like that. She soon got better though. Anyway, when I arrived to Mexico, I saw a lot of differences; the buildings, the streets, roads, food, how people worked and how people lived. On my way there, I saw people living in unfinished buildings and tiny houses. The houses there are really colorful though, they’re mostly painted with bright colors. The streets to the houses are so tiny it makes everyone want to walk or ride a bike

I used to be a person who was hung up on material possessions. I was always wanting more, never satisfied with what I had. Whenever I would go to the mall, I would want everything that I saw. If I had money I would always spend it. I was constantly buying things that I didn’t need, only used once, or would stay in my closet with the tags on. I felt like I was unfortunate because I didn’t have a new outfit every week, and I couldn’t get a new pair of shoes every time I walked out the door, but that all changed the summer going into freshman year. My father suggested, to go on a border immersion trip to Nuevo Laredo, Mexico. He thought that it would be a good idea to read what it was like to live on the border. But, no matter how many times we got together or how many books we read, nothing could have prepared me for what I was going to experience while I was down there.

I remember the day I left Mexico, very clearly. I will never forget it. March 8, 1997, exactly 2 months before I turned 6 years old. As we were packing the last of our bags into the car my grandma called to me, “Alito!” she yelled and I immediately turned around with a big smile on my face, like one of those huge smiles where all your teeth are showing. I remember my grandmother really well. She was a heavyset lady with long black hair and a very rough voice. Grandma's voice was like a pissed off boss, assertive and loud but whenever she spoke you would listen attentively. My grandmother also had a beauty mark on her face by her left eye. To me, my grandma was the most beautiful soul in the world. When I last saw her, I knew I would never forget her face…always calm but always ready for anything. If I would have known that this was the last time I would see her in person, I would have told her how much I really loved her. I would have mentioned how uneasy I felt that day like I was hearing her last words as we stood there face to face for the last time. If I knew back then that this was the last time I would be in this country. I would have never let her go.