My Family: My 12 Year Immigrant Parents

Coming from a Mexican immigrant family I have learned to recognize since a very young age that because of the status that my parents are placed in they cannot pursue a better future like the one I want. I have been given the opportunity to challenge myself with obtaining a higher education than just high school itself. My parents have demonstrated to me through their hard work that I have to value this opportunity unless I want to end up with low paying job. My life long dedication comes from seeing my parents make sacrifices in order for my education to continue.

Being a daughter of immigrant parents has never been easy here in America. Both my parents worked excessively hard to be financially stable. Unfortunately at the age of ten my life changed. I learned that my parents no longer loved each other. The arguing and fighting my parents had, only damaged me emotionally. I was too young to grasp the idea that my parents were separating which become one of the hardest times for my mom to maintain my siblings and I. Shortly after, I began attending church and fell in love with the idea of getting closer to God. Luckily, my life took an enormous turn the moment I gave my life to Christ. God has opened numerous opportunities for my education. I am proud of all the accomplishments I have achieved in high

As a part of an immigrant family, there is no doubt that, as the oldest, I had to help my parents with English translation. Even though I have been in this role for years, it was not until recently that I realized the significance of my responsibilities.

Hello reader, I’m about to tell you a story of some of my life. I am not normally one to volunteer details about myself, which I’ll remain somewhat reserved or completely leave some events out of this autobiography. Nonetheless, I believe I can still make my story interesting for the reader. I was born 1979, in Tampa, Florida; which, is also the same day my biological father decided to leave my mother and I. My mother isn’t a native Floridian, but had moved there with her family when she was still an infant, and had spent most of her life growing up in Florida. Needless to say, my father leaving was not an exciting time for my mother and I. Although she was employed Jimmy Cater was president and had taken the nation into

Growing up in a Hispanic household has taught me many things. I have learned to see things as an optimistic person, and that it doesn’t matter where you come from as long as you work hard for what you want anything is possible. My family has always implemented the values of life that lead me to perceive what it was about to throw at me.

There were three lessons that my immigrant parents ingrained in their first-generation children: Work hard, never give up, and most importantly, give back. Among other life lessons they taught us, these three were the basis for everything. It would be the basis that would and will define me as a person.

Growing up in a Hispanic household has its ups and downs. As a first generation Latina, I have family members that are always encouraging me, wanting the best for me, and pushing me to succeed in life so that I don't go through the same hardships that they went through. I have seen struggles my parents have gone through to get to where they are now, but giving it their all to giving my siblings and I the best.

It is not uncommon to hear one recount their latest family reunion or trip with their cousins, but being a first generation immigrant, I sacrificed the luxury of taking my relatives for granted for the security of building a life in America. My parents, my brother, and I are the only ones in my family who live in the United States, thus a trip to India to visit my extended family after 4 years was an exciting yet overwhelming experience. Throughout the trip, I felt like a stranger in the country where I was born as so many things were unfamiliar, but there were a few places that reminded me of my childhood.

Immigrant groups take refuge in America in hope of starting a better life for themselves and their ongoing generations. They take on the belief that upon coming to America, they will be presented by the riches and freedom granted by the “American Dream”. However, these opportunities are not easily achieved. Many immigrant families are challenged with the initial obstacles of having to adapt to the new languages and the customs of their environment. For example, without the basic knowledge of the standard English language, immigrants will not be able to apply for a majority of the jobs available. This puts immigrant parents at disadvantages because then they will not be able to provide the sufficient funds needed for allowing their children

As a first generation immigrant family and as an only child of a missionary kid, our family moved occasionally-mostly before high school- for my parent’s ministries involving a non-profit religious organization. Because of our transitions, our family could not acquire the right time to process our residency, and eventually applied for the green card during the most sensitive period, while the government shifts and immigration law changes were eventuating, although we have lived in US for more than ten years.

“The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself.” (-Mark Twain) Being a child of immigrant parents who move to American can be hard. There is a lingering feeling of not feeling like a child belongs. They are stuck in the invisible world between where their parents came from, in this specific case, Asia and where the child lives now. It can be difficult to be raised as an Asian American and learning both culture and traditions. Many Asian American kids end up deviating from the Asian culture and embracing the American culture. However, children of immigrants should embrace their own culture in order to keep traditions alive and be proud of who they are.

I think that if you are an immigrant child the pressures that are put on you are different than the pressures if you are a child from a middle-class family in America.

Living in a Latino household, unabating nagging was as common as the dust we swept every day. A motto my mother would always repeat to me was “es una vergüenza llegar a un lugar con las manos vacías” which translates to, “you should never arrive somewhere empty-handed.” It sounded strident when she first said it to me, just as many of her other sayings were, but she colored them with her values, which made them lessons rather than just nagging. Mom reminds me of the value of hard and quality work. She never let me leave the kitchen until the dishes were washed, dried, and put away. Our doors were always open; she never let a guest leave on an empty stomach. She takes care of the ones who took care of her, and expects the same of me. These and many more were her Salvadorian hallmarks that I rejected at first, but now treasure like an invaluable inheritance.

Having a kid these days are really hard; I have a baby sister her name is Jasmine, Jasmine is five years old now. When she was two years old, she knew how to use the I-pad and the laptop. Also now she always come from school and stay on the laptop and doesn’t care about anything else around her. Actually it is not her fault in the first place, it was my family and I’s fault because we didn’t have time for her when she was young, every one of us have their own thing to do. My sister is not the only one that has this problem, all the young age kids are like that and because they grow up with any technology in their hands, they think that it is their lives and they have nothing else to do. This problem can be solved by the parents

Although my legal and registered name is “Kristal”, I no longer identify myself with that name. When I was growing up I was known as Kristal, the young girl who had nothing to worry about and lived a carefree life. Although I was never spoiled, I was sheltered from the cruelness of the world. Despite not possessing a high socioeconomic status, my immigrant parents worked hard to provide our basic needs. As a result of always possessing our basic necessities, the most painful experience I had when I was younger was my first heartbreak from my first crush; not from a close loved one’s death, not being homelessness, but from a stupid first crush.