My Family 's History Has Been Nothing More Than Basic

When my mother immigrated to America from Mexico, she had only her family and hope. Hope for a better life; in the US, she was offered the world, and she snatched it within seconds. Unbeknownst to her, their promises were as empty as her pockets. They stole from her, they ruined her, and they tried to build a wall not only between her country and theirs but between her and her family.

I take pride that I live America, with my family and friends. I have developed a sense of patriotism especially after the terrorist attacks on September 11. As an immigrant to this country, I hold no grudge against anyone who is seeking to come here for a better life, however, there are certain things and rules that we need to understand when we make this country our home.

I am a second generation Mexican-American and the last of seven children. My siblings and I were born and raised here in the United States with a mix of Mexican and American values. Our parents migrated to the U.S. at an early age in search of the American dream. Both my mother and father left their families in Mexico to start a better life for themselves and their future children.

By my mom and two of her sisters, my grandfather is called dad, but my Aunt Marcia addresses him as Jack Bronder. My maternal grandfather passed away before I was born, but that is not to say his life does not hold a standing presence in my family today, especially for my Aunt Marcia. The man that I imagine as my grandfather is created only by stories passed down to me, but the story that stands out to me the most is the one told by my Aunt Marcia.

My family is from Mexico, a place where there is no prospect, and they have given up their most important wishes for mine. Being a Hispanic doesn’t make me feel inferior, but it makes me diligent. I have observed the way my parents worked throughout their years. The way they managed to survive and pleasure us, my brother and I, with our wants or needs. It is important to love who I am, my heritage and background, because it is not about how much money I have in my wallet but it is about the lesson or motivation I cultivated. The most amazing part about my heritage is knowing how strongly and intensely we believe in ourselves. When we set a belief, it is rare for someone to destroy the significance of it so easily. We have strong morals and that is what makes my background/heritage so important to me. We never give up.

My parents immigrated to the United States at a very young age. Having no higher education than elementary school, the only jobs they could find were working in the orchards. They would pick and thin apples during the summers, and prune trees during the cold winters. As soon as I was of working age, I would go out into the fields with them from early sunrise until the intense heat scorched our necks and faces. At a young age, I learned the harsh reality of what the daily life of an immigrant is. The long hours of hard work in the unforgiving heat of the sun; all for the low wages they were paid. These experiences in the orchard instilled in me a sense of drive to further my education and work hard to help families that were at a disadvantage as

As a first-generation Mexican American, I am the product of two cultures merged into one. Like many immigrants, my parents left behind their homeland and came with just the clothes on their back. They were fish out of water when they first arrived in America. They came here with hopes of pursuing the American Dream but soon realized that they weren't going to be the ones to achieve the American Dream. They worked hard so that my younger brother and I could have a shot at it. So they’ve educated us and passed the Dream along to us. The hardships experienced by my parents have inspired me to take on my own challenges. Because of the sacrifices my parents made, I am where I am today. It's an unspoken responsibility that one day I will give back to those who gave me so much.

There have been countless influential people in my life that I’ve come across. One who was a meticulous inspiration continues to be my grandfather. My grandmother had remarried to the one I call “grandpa” when I was at the age of five, and they both took to each other’s grandchildren as their own. With my mother and me only living a mile down the road from their farmhouse out in the country, I’d spent heaps amount of time there as a child. Indeed, I had been without a father but my grandfather stepped up to the plate and had taken me under his wing and willingly played the personification of a father figure.

I was born and raised in the United States but my family was not born here, they came from an area south of Los Angeles, Mexico. In the border between the United States and Mexico, many immigrants have lost their lives attempting to achieve their promise dream. Many immigrants who cross the border pursue the American Dream. My family was one of the many immigrant families who attempted and fortunately succeeded in crossing over the border. My father’s family originated from Guadalajara, Jalisco, México. Many families just like mine risked their lives attempting to not only get to the border, but to cross it as well. My family did not differ much from the other immigrant families who sought to achieve economic stability and prosperity here

t is impossible to talk about the history of the United States without mentioning the contribution that the Mexican folks have done to build this great country. Mexicans that have given their lives by fighting and defending this country is different wars throughout its history. Mexicans immigrants also perform jobs that the Anglos won’t do. Jobs such like in the farm work, cleaning services, construction industry, among many other types of jobs. Moreover, Mexicans immigrants also contribute with more than 25% of the United States economy. Making them selve an important part for the economy of this country. Throughout history many Mexicans migrate to this country with the hope of finding a better better future with better opportunities. However, when they finally make it to this country the “American Dream” becomes a nightmare, because they suffer discrimination, poverty, and injustice.

I am the daughter of hard working immgirant parents, and I myself am an immigrant as well. What can I say? Living in America has been a challenge due to the lack of documents, yet here we are working as hard as we possibly can to have a better life- a brighter future.

My dad moved to the United States at a very young age. He crossed the border illegally many times trying to pursue the American dream, but despite of all the failures he never gave up. On the other hand, my mom moved here with a visa after marrying my dad. Both of them struggled to survive, especially since their lifestyle was completely different.

I’m an immigrant. I was born in Mexico and it was only until my parents decided to come to the United States that I am where I am. My mother tried to cross the border to come to the United States for the first time when I was still in her womb all by herself as my father was already in the Unites States working in order to provide for her in the way that he wasn’t able to do so by staying in Mexico. My mother was caught by immigration and was sent back. My mother was very disappointed because she knew that if she didn’t get me to the United States some way or another I wouldn’t get very far in life by staying in Mexico. My father returned back to Mexico when I was born and it wasn’t until I was 4 years old that they decided to try to cross the border once again. Although I was only 4 years old I remember the whole experience as if it was yesterday. The amount of fear of getting caught by immigration and having done everything for nothing was always in the back of my mind while going through the whole experience. Up to this day nothing has ever been as terrifying and nerve-wrecking as having to go through that whole experience especially for a 4 year old child but I will forever be grateful for the bravery and strength that my parents had to gather in

As the descendant of an immigrant father and his father before him, I’ve witnessed firsthand the means and consequences of trying to enter this country and become a citizen. The

For many people, Grandpa is a storyteller, someone to go fishing with, and someone who has your back no matter what. The experience I had with my grandpa was a little different. I never got the opportunity to meet my great-grandfather Liston Grider, but he still somehow managed to have a huge impact on my life. Sometimes my mom would tell stories about him; happy memories from her childhood, sad ones that were painful for her to tell, and everything in between. I thought I had heard it all, but this past summer I learned something about my great grandpa that would perhaps impact my life forever. This story was not told by my mom like usual, but by someone who was a complete stranger to me. The lessons I learned would not be taught in a single day, but over the span of a month through a series of Facebook messages and letters in the mail. The words I read upon opening those messages and letters would change my life forever, permanently transform my beliefs, and show me what it truly means to be an American.