My Family And The United States

As a kid my grandparents’ description of the United States never ceased to amaze me. The way they described American schools looks, platform, and libraries made me envious. I always wondered to myself “why are we not like them? Why is Iraq so undeveloped?” now I detect incontrovertibly clearly that all the lines point at the same reason, students in Iraq avoid studying, learning, and reading. However, they are not entirely to be blamed, the educational system is wrong doer.

Coming back to the U.S. for the second time in my life after nine years was perhaps one of the most challenging obstacles I have ever had to face. Not only did I have to accustom myself to the language but also to a newer, differentiated culture. Also, with that came some bullying and taunting that did not pull me down but instead opened my eyes to see what a strong and enduring person I could be. With help from my teachers and my supporting family as they helped buffer my experience and transition to a different world, I was able to overcome the typical immigrant challenge that thousands have to face.

Coming from an Arab American household, there has always been an emphasis on higher education and higher socio economic status. I believe that it is something that can be found in various Arab American Communities in the United States and these standards set in the household show when you look at the statistics as to where Arab Americans stand on both educational and socio economical scales. This paper will look into the history of Arabs in the United States, as well as the demographics of the Arab community in the U.S, and cultural and physiological backings that may all have influence on education. My goal for this research paper is to find the reasons behind the Arab American strive for education and socioeconomic success and whether the Arab culture has a positive or negative influence on the success of Arab Americans.

I came into this country as a refugee from a civil war happening in my country at the young age of 1 1/2, so I've practically lived here in the U.S all my life. Unfortunately, a lot of people believed because I shared the identity of a refugee that I was somehow unintelligent. So when I was put into an ELL class in the third grade because my appearance and identity was the same as the other kids in ELL and not because of my English capabilities, I was "othered". When the teachers eventually tested us, which they should've in the beginning, they were surprised on how well I did. They were surprised that somehow someone who's been living in the U.S for so long and has been doing just fine in class leading up to now did so well on a test I was suppose to do poorly on. They told me specifically that I should be proud that I'm different from the rest of the ELL class, and that it was rare to find someone with my identity. What they didn't understand was what Tatum has brilliantly described in this article. The notion that it has to be an anomaly for someone different to share similar traits with the dominant group. I was taken out of the ELL class and put back into the one I was in previously. The thing that bothered me the most was that it took my mother to contact the teachers for them to test my abilities. I am almost positive there were more kids in the ELL class that were judged on their identities just like

I grew up in a family where my father was a doctor and my mother a homemaker, both immigrants from Pakistan hoping to achieve the American dream. Growing up in a white-dominant community and attending a high school with predominantly, white students and teachers, I was restricted in my growth and freedom. I was treated differently by my friends, peers and faculty members as I tried to acclimate to the American culture. My low social status, identity as a student in my high school was due to my race and gender. My race, defined by my phenotypic traits, compelled my peers and teachers to treat me differently, because of association with an inferior race. Despite being born in America, my foreign looks and association with another country, led me to be captured by the chains of racial profiling. My family, my low-social status in a White-dominated institution and my membership in primary groups were all pivotal aspects that have allowed me to attend UC Davis, where I plan to combat the low expectations of my Pakistani race.

We were finally financially stable. Still, my parents faced much discrimination as immigrants. After the tragic incident of 9/11, my parents were perceived as outsiders since they were Middle Eastern. The community we lived in placed a negative connation on being Egyptian. Upon entering Middle School, I did not know how truly people did not see me as an American because my parents were from Egypt. I spent restless nights thinking about the way the other students in school mocked me, and I pleaded my father to help me transfer. However, my father sat me down and told me “People will come to understand who you are, just smile and everything will be okay”. Little did I know that my father’s advice would impact every part of my transition into

September 28th, 2004 came by all too quickly. That is the day I landed in the United States of America at SeaTac airport. I remember growing up in Kenya and my dad used to call me and my sisters “American ladies”. He would constantly say that if he doesn't get a chance to come here he would make sure that my sisters and I would come here for a more suitable education. Growing up in Seattle life never came easy for me unlike my sisters. I barely knew how to speak English let alone my own language, Kiswahili. Juggling between the American and the Kenyan accent was a tedious task. furthermore, not being able to communicate with others turned me into an awfully reserved individual and practically branded me an outcast. Likewise, at home my supposed “safe place” also felt like I was in isolation from the other members of my family. At the moment I wasn’t at the top of my parents priority list but to some extent my parents feared for how I would be able to assimilate in the culture without being able to speak the language. Two months after our arrival I was enrolled to John Stanford Elementary, an alternative school, specifically to learn English. Going to an alternative

As the son of immigrant parents, I have always wanted to assimilate into American culture. My parents expected me to excel in everything I do, especially in academics. When report cards came at the end of the quarter, I would be ashamed when my parents saw my grades. Every time I got a B, I could see the disappointment on their faces. I would lock myself in my room and think about how much easier my life would be if I was not Asian. I had always hoped that my parents would congratulate me if I completed something, or showed affection when I needed it. My parent’s merciless emphasis on academic achievement made me submissive to their authority.

My school experience was an average one. Straight A’s, few close friends and lots of family. In high school I recall a unit where we were learning about countries. We started in South America and went across the globe. Once we began to talk about Asia I began to feel everyone’s eyes on me. The teacher would ask me a question and everyone would wait for me to answer it. Just because I immigrated from Asia to America they expected me to know everything about Asia. But that’s when it hit me. I am an immigrant. I have no idea of what village I grew up in. I don’t know anything about my country! Why is that? The unit was coming to an end and we had been waiting for my teacher to announce what the final project will be. “A true story about you or someone’s experience traveling to the U.S.” That is the only assignment I really remember in high school. I had chosen to do my immigration story because that would be easier for me. Once I got home that day, I sat down on my desk and began to try to write down my story. I couldn’t. I had no idea of what my story was.

Pursuing a Master of Arts in Liberal Studies at Georgetown University would allow me the opportunity to work alongside professionals, involving me in important research of the socio-political concerns in the Middle East. My recent experience studying Arabic on a David L. Boren Scholarship in Amman, Jordan, has allowed me to obtain an intense level of Arabic language proficiency, with experience integrating the language into both research and professional development. While living in Amman, I served as an English language instructor for both Syrian and Iraqi refugees. Through my encounters working in the refugee camps, I came to understand how the protracted crisis placed an economic burden on the Jordanian community. This concern allowed me

My goal coming to the United States was to have opportunities to get educated and to become part of something greater than myself. The challenge I have encountered in coming to the U.S. was the culture differences and language barrier here in South Florida. The Sunshine State offers a great deal of individuals not only in the U.S. but also from all around the world. As a twelve years old boy whose family lived majority of their lives in a rural area near Bangkok, I was never exposed to individuals from different ethnic groups or societies. I remembered my first day of school, where I roamed along the hallway, sitting in an intensive reading class, listening to words I am not familiarize with, school was very challenging and intimidating. During

Assimilating into the American culture is an arduous challenge. English is my second language, I struggled through language barriers. Throughout elementary school, kids developed callous nicknames for me such as “Muslim terrorist” and “Gandhi” because I spoke in an accent and I was the only Punjabi kid in my class. Since all of my bullies were Mexican, I determined that all other Mexican kids would choose to discriminate against me. I decided to avoid interaction with the other students, which made it harder for me to learn English. I would spend most of my time alone sitting on a bench because I was hesitant of what new nicknames the other kids might devise. However, I wasn’t the only troublesome child who was facing bullying on that bench.

Something that is really important to me is Puerto Rico and my family there. The reasons as to why Puerto Rico and my family are important to me is because my family remembers me even though I don't remember them. There are a lot of fun places to go to. Also, I grew up there l. First, my family always come up to me and ask me if I remember them. No matter how many times I go there I will always forget some of my family, but they don't forget me. Next, every time I go to Puerto Rico I always visit new places. There's a place called Parque de las Palomas, which in English is just pigeon park. You can feed the pigeons there and in my opinion it's really fun l. Lastly, I grew up in Puerto Rico. I lived there when I was little in a house

I moved to the United States, as a refugee less than five years ago. Living as a religious minority in a country with a religious government, made the life for me and my family full of barriers. My father got fired from his job, only because of his beliefs, and I knew from the first years of school, that all my education dreams would be limited to high school diploma in that country, as we were deprived from higher education. After many years of struggling and experiencing all different kinds of discrimination,

1-Forming the goal: my five-year-old daughter and my eight-year-old son were born in the US, they could not learn Arabic.