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My Educational Experience

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I’m one of the millions of American students whose first language is not English that had to overcome barriers to fit in. Twenty-two years ago, both of my parents crossed the border illegally in search of a better life leaving behind the growing poverty, crime, and violence. Neither of them finished high school, my mother dropped out of third grade and my father went up to the eighth grade. My parents didn’t drop out because they were dumb or lazy, they had to work to support their parents and siblings. Unlike others, my parents had to work the fields from sunrise to dawn with barely enough money to eat. Due to their educational experience, they didn’t want that for my sisters and I. One of the first educational experiences I remember is being enrolled in the head start program and my mom having to walk one mile and a half throughout the year’s extreme weather. In head start, I remember that I learned how to count to twenty, learned the alphabet in Spanish, and how to write my name ‘’Veronica’’. My mom decided that my sister and I had to learn Spanish first at school for us to properly communicate with them.
Honestly, I’m sure I went to Pre-Kinder but don’t remember anything as I was transferred to another school halfway through the year. Moving on to Kindergarten made everything interesting as I wanted to follow my sister’s steps and felt protected by her. In Kinder, I learned how to read and became a good reader thanks to my younger sisters. For homework, Mrs. Cruz made us
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