My Educational Journey Of My Migration To Planada, California

In the article, “Out Of My Hands” by Antonio Alvarez the author describes his endless battle with his undocumented status in the United States. Beginning with his father who immigrated to build a better life for Alvarez and his family. Despite their goals and aspirations they live in constant repression due to immigration laws. The author uses his personal life story to depict how his education has been detained financially. When reading this article I could relate to the author’s life story because my parents too are immigrants and struggle with there residential status.

In the year 1997 a young boy around six months crosses the border on the back of his mother along side his father. They trekked through the harsh environment to cross the border into the promised land to seek a better life for the young boy. Eighteen years later he would be challenged by the american education system to see if his parents sacrifice was worth it. Andres Guzman grew up in the quiet suburbs of a not so small town of La Mirada located between Norwalk and Buena Park and not too far from Los Angeles. After graduating from the originally named La Mirada High School Andres face the journey to get be accepted to a four year university. No four year would accept him though because he didn't apply himself in high school.

Growing up in a Hispanic household has shaped and built my values in life. At Appleton North High School, I am one out of the few Hispanic students. Knowing that my parents have migrated to America to give me a better future has motivated me to make it happen. Although, as a Mexican-American, I have felt out of place as a minority. However, with time I learned to accept my cultural differences. In fact, to this day, I thank my widowed father for the sacrifices and greater opportunities he has given me. My goal is to keep representing the few Hispanic students in college by working hard to achieve my career goals; not all Hispanics are fortunate enough to attend college. I also work to inspire young Hispanics to find their potential and follow

On July 1, 1999, I was born in Santa Clara, California and continued my life in San Jose for about a year, and then I moved south and was introduced to Visalia. This is my family’s first time moving out of the Bay Area, but ever since we came to Visalia we settled here ever since. Both of my parents, Elia and Ramon, are Spanish speakers and so my first language was Spanish. As soon as I went to school I began learning English quickly and my parents were dedicated to helping me advance in my education. Fast forward to my high school years, they found a high school, University Preparatory High School, that would benefit me and enrolled me. Although it was against my wishes, I followed their plan, had my interview and I have learned to love academic

When I was 4 years old, my mother decided to send me and my siblings to live with our grandparents in Honduras. I was born in Long Beach, CA, USA, however, my mother was struggling to give us a better life working as a housekeeper, and it wasn’t until I was 12 years old that we were reunited in New York. Nevertheless, my mother’s sacrifice to send my siblings and me to her country was indeed positive; hence, today am bilingual and have respect for diversity.

Growing up as a first-generation college-bound Hispanic woman has proven to be a difficult journey. Both of my parents left their home countries at a young age and came to this country without any ideas or real opportunities on where to begin. At a young age, I have been taught that having a higher education is the key to having a successful and plentiful life. However, the journey towards achieving my dream of receiving a higher education has been filled with moments where I have challenged the stereotypes about getting pregnant and dropping out of high school, facing my grandma’s unexpected illness that affected me both academically and mentally, and the challenge of being a first generation college bound student in my family.

Dominican Republic a nation home to 10.4 million people and home to 300,000 immigrants. Today Dominican Republic faces a big crisis has of today the immigrants of the Dominican Republic are being deported from the island for not having visas and paperwork to prove that they are from the island. Many citizens have had their paperwork reviewed as false such as invalid birth certificates, invalid passports and this has brought the economy to it’s lowest since the 1960’s because those immigrants are the very same people who work the toughest jobs in Dominican Republic. The people of Dominican Republic refuse to work the jobs that involve doing hard labor such as harvesting and construction. Many latin people seek the jobs that we hard working

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.

My Mother and Father relocated from Costa Rica to New York City where they met got married and where I was born. When I was just two years old, always wanting the best for us, my father moved our family from New York City to Jacksonville, FL in search of a better paying job and the American dream so he could provide us with a better quality of life. To ensure we were always clothed and feed, my father sacrificed everything for us and worked long hours to do so. Though I did have a pronounced, safe and active upbringing the North Florida school system didn’t expect much from the Hispanics that were starting to move to the then small town; unfortunately since my parents worked so much they expected the school system

“The Product of Immigrant Parents” One of the proudest achievements of my life is having the opportunity to continue my education at a college level, despite the fact that the odds were against me, through dedication and commitment I was able to channel it in a motivational manner. Throughout my life, I have constantly struggled with the being a Latina in a predominately white institution, my chances of prospering were limited-being also weighed down by my economic status. By my senior of high school, I was forced to deal with my financial situation and consider the possibility of not being able to further my educational career. Being a diligent worker, I was determined to channel my frustration in a manner that would benefit my educational

My grandfather Frailan Sendejo’s father Gregorio Sendeja would take him to work in the fields every summer. So, just like his father, my grandfather got married and had my father Enrique Sendejo and worked in the fields every summer just like they did with him. My father said to me “My dad and I went to multiple states like North Dakota, South Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin.” (Sendejo) It was tough for my father because he never got to go to a full year of school, he had to leave during the school year and then come back late in the next school year. My father told me “Some summers were harder than others because I would go on a bus to another state and work without my parents to pick cucumbers.” (Sendejo) He also said ”I had to walk on my knees all across the fields and back to help support my family, and I would only get paid $40 for the day.” (Sendejo) When he went back to Crystal one year he went to school and met my mother Gina Sendejo. My father was going to have to leave to the fields again, so my mother decided to go with him. Though, after a few years they decided to stop migrating up North to focus on their careers and family. I never realized how difficult it was for my father to get to be the person he is today, but I’m glad that he and my mother brought me to where I am today, so I can continue to share their

I was intrigued by these differences in perspective, and attempted to understand why this was occurring. I first asked my parents, as I was only in the fifth grade, and their answer was simply that we were different, and that that wasn’t a bad thing. Feeling displaced, I began to question everything that I did on a regular basis, and if there was a proper manner in which to act for someone in my situation. The constant choice between my Mexican and American identity was always present.

My parents named me Carlo Rossi, naming me after my great, great grandfather Carlos Rossi who was an intelligent, rich and successful man. I grew up in the Northwest part of San Fierro with my parents and my twin sister in an average cozy San Fierro apartment house. Life felt like heaven at San Fierro, crime rates were low in my area, and I had many friends around the block with which I would play basketball on the street every afternoon after returning from school. My family was, and still is, in good shape and getting the best they can out of life.

I must start off this essay with a spoiler alert: I tend to be drab and boring at times, so please bear with me. Now that that is out of the way, I guess I need to start at the beginning (it only seems fitting). I started my educational career in the great state of California at the early age of three. Of course this was in a pre-school setting. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, I lived in Southern California in a small city named La Mesa). During the late 70’s and early 80’s the population was heavily Hispanic, I don’t know if much has changed, so my

In each individual classroom, every student is different; they all have different backgrounds, cultures and traditions, different educational needs, abilities and talents, and overall different identities. In Leigh Patel’s book, Youth Held at the Border: Immigration, Education and the Politics of Inclusion, she evaluates how immigration and citizenship, two important identity markers, impact education, specifically, the practices of teachers and the experiences of students in schools. Patel’s research was conducted at a school called Franklin High School, which was exclusive to immigrant students, documented and undocumented, and she follows the stories of several students who shed light on immigration’s impact on education and identity. Beyond sharing anecdotes, she examines the systems that are in place to hold immigrant youth “at the border” beyond the physical borders between nations.