My Family: Moving To America

It can be very challenging to move away from the country you grew up in. Recalling all those moments of laughter, excitement, and adventure can only make one more and more depressed. I was born in Port-Au -Prince, which is the capital of Haiti and raised in Gonaives. I spend most of my early childhood in Haiti. I only knew my native language, food, music, and history. I was only familiar with my native holidays and celebration. Therefore, the day my mother came to me and told me I had been awarded my resident card, and we had to move to America. My life changed forever.

I walked around unsteadily all day like a lost baby, far away from its pack. Surrounded by unfamiliar territory and uncomfortable weather, I tried to search for any signs of similarities with my previous country. I roamed around from place to place and moved along with the day, wanting to just get away and go back home. This was my first day in the United States of America.

They started working and over the course of time, my sister and I were born. However, my parents always kept thinking about the "U.S. project." In 1997, we got Permanent Resident Cards, thanks to my grandmother who has been in America for over twenty years. Since the Iranian Revolution in 1979, my parents had planned on coming to America, but they always just talked about it. I never thought they were committed to making the move. Then, in January 2000, my sister came to America to complete her studies and to settle here. She had always dreamed of living in the United States. That is the reason why she decided to move to this country. Then, in April 2002, my parents made one of the hardest and the most delicate decisions of their lives: they finally made the decision to move to America. It was not easy to make that decision because it would require my parents to leave the comfort of their jobs, their houses, their cars and their friends in France. Once the decision made, and four months later, my parents and I finally moved to the United States.

Most of my family comes from Mexico and only recently, about 25 years ago, have they decided to come to America. The migration to a different country has changed the religious views of many of my family members in various ways. My family members never expected that this move would change their religious views.

My story starts in the year of 2003, when I decided to follow up on my

Being in America means a lot to me and my family. Since I was born here I don’t have a story to type, but, my mom told me her story of how she got here. In 1997 my mom came to America wanting a better life for herself and her future kids.She was 24 when she came to America. She came from a small village in Mexico. She took a plane from her village to Tequila. When she made it to Tequila she meet up with her brother (my uncle) so he could help her find a coyote who will take her to America. She had to pay $800 to get to America a better and safe way. She could have payed less like about $200 but, the route would be a lot more dangerous. She got in a car with the coyote and his girlfriend and with another woman who looked to be around 45 years of age. The coyote drove from Tequila to the U.S border as he was driving the coyote’s girlfriend gave my mom and the other woman an American ID that worked but, it didn’t have my mom name on it. As they made it to the border the person that checks for either papers or American ID asked the driver (the coyote) for either one of identification in order to pass. The coyote showed all 4 of the ID’s and he called out each name. When the person that was checking the ID’s he called out my mom’s ID name (which isn’t her name on the ID) she said that was her. The person let them enter. The coyote took my mom to LA where her brother was waiting for her. When they got to LA my mom and the other woman gave them the $800 so they

Moving as many times as we have was never my parent’s plan. However, when better job opportunities arose for my mom or dad, the other gladly gave up their lives there for each other. As well, my parents have made many sacrifices for us, even living in a different country then all their family, just to provide us with the best education they could. As well, my parents have taught me to be myself, not to let bring me down. Through these values they have taught my siblings and I, if we were being attacked and unfairly persecuted, I feel as though we would band together, and fight against the injustice being put on us. I know for a fact that my parents would do anything for my siblings and I, just as I would do the same. Just like my parents, my “gift” I could bring to my family is that I would do anything for them, because I love them. Not only this, but I am very calm in tough situations, and are able to calm down people when they are faced with these stressful situations. Overall, my family and I have developed a close bond together and would be willing to do anything or sacrifice anything for one

38 years ago, my mother's family packed their things, and moved to Canada. My grandfather was in the British army, which allowed him and his wife, my grandmother, to live in many countries in a short amount of time. Between 1964-1969 my grandfather was stationed in Germany and that’s where my mother and uncle were born. After about 12 years of moving back and forth between England, Germany, and Canada, my grandparents made the decision to settle down in Canada. And that’s where my story begins and why I have deep roots not only in Canada, but also in England. A big part of my cultural heritage comes from England.

For the past two-hundred years or more, immigrants from all over the world whether from Asia to South America have come to the United States of America. In high hopes that they can achieve the “American Dream.” Whatever it may be such as materialistic items such as the “white house with the red picket fence” to getting a higher education in which can lead to better job opportunities. When I was eight years old, my family and I emigrated to the United States from Japan because my parents felt that the educational opportunities in Japan were very limited to women. Due to the fact, that in Japanese culture women had certain expectations to live up to, such as to be obedient to their husbands, arrange marriages to sustain family lineage,

America makes you believe that if a family comes to live here that the families will live life to the fullest. With this picture, the art makes it clear that not everyone has the luxury to live the American Dream. With the billboard above the flood victims, it is showing the exact opposite of how their lives are going. These people could be standing in line at a bus stop or maybe even a shelter waiting for some food. The United States went through a depression where many people suffered in life. This picture is showing that they were struck by the depression and are living at the lowered standard of life. With the depression, many people had lost their jobs and their houses. The picture shows that they are flood victims lost everything they

Before my father migrated to America, he was living in Kuwait, working with yachts for a couple years. Then he moved to Germany and lived there for while working at a software company. Later on, my father decided to move to the United States and was married in Afghanistan a couple months later. My mother came to America a couple months later because of the war as a refugee. My father decided to live in America because he thought it was a better country to live than Kuwait, and Germany. It was difficult for my father when he first came to America because he had to support my sister and my mother at first while working at a Software company. Later on in life, my dad lost his job so he started working as a taxi driver and it was tough to see him

My mother was born in Barranquilla, Colombia in 1964. She has five sisters, no brothers, and a mother and father destined to provide a better life for their children. At the tender age of four, her parents decided to make a huge decision in order to better their lives. Like many other families, they decided to move America. They scraped together their life savings and bought the tickets for them and four out of their five children. One stayed behind to start her family.

My family remembers very little of its immigration history. No one makes traditional foods and everyone speaks English. In fact no one even seems to remember where we immigrated from. I was curious about where my family actually came from so I had my mother, my grandmother (on my dad’s side) and myself take a dna test on ancestry.com. If you ask my mother’s side of the family (specifically her dad’s side) where they came from they tend to guess Germany because of their looks, and France because of their name, Larew. However, when we got the DNA results back my mom showed up as being 43% genetically from Great Britain as well as 13% Irish (making her a total of 56% British Isles) while only identifying as 28% “European West” which includes

My parents have always been there for me. Both came from low-income families in the West African countries of Senegal and Gambia. Both struggled to come to America in hopes of a better life and the “ American dream” for their future children. My dad arrived in America first with his closest friends that I only know as my uncles. My mom arrived two years later and after two months of ‘courting’ with my dad, they got married. A year later, they had me. The three of us lived with my dad’s close school friend, his wife, and my brave cousin. The only memories that I have of the little apartment in Silver Spring are filled with happiness and a huge 1st birthday party. My memories are only happy because I was blinded from the reality of the situation. My parents

I honestly didn’t know what was going on and I still don’t know what really happened. For what I remember, was that my parent would argue a lot and it really wasn’t like that before. I would sometimes try to see if they were okay and I would always worry about them a lot because I loved them both, but it hard to choose a parent’s side when they would argue. At that time I remember them arguing because honestly, it was always something because he got home late or not answer the phone, but this time I they were arguing because they didn’t know what to do because they didn’t have money for the rent. I can honestly say that having immigrated parents was difficult because they would not get paid good or they couldn’t even get a good or stable job and in difficult times like now would not have enough money for the food or for the rent. What they decided to do was to move out. I didn’t really wanted to move because I loved it where I lived and yah changes are good, but it was just gonna take a lot to get us to living in another state, but I saw what my parents were going though and I told them that yeah that was a great idea. Well little did I know that it really wasn’t gonna be so great.