Personal Narration : A Short Story : Moving To Canada

When I was a kid, a girl lived next door to me. She was beautiful, graceful, and overall a kind person. Her name was Riley. I remember the times where I hung out with her. She was a cool girl who didn’t mind a boy hanging around with her. We often spent our time swinging on a rope in the park and playing tag. In time, I felt… attached to her. I wanted to tell her this. However, something happened.

I was not born here in Canada, I'm originally from Haiti. I came to Canada when I was young and I only spoke French and Haitian Creole. In the beginning it was really hard adjusting to the new culture, life, school, making new friends, etc. it was like my world just turned upside down and I had to start all over again. Although Canada is a bilingual country where I was living, which is Windsor Ontario the majority of the people spoke English, most of the schools and government facility were also English places. I used to be really shy and quiet because I was afraid to be judged for not pronouncing or not understand what the words mean that is why when I went to school or any place that required me to speak English I just stayed quietly in a corner.

Although I am Canadian and still carry Canadian traits, adopting new traits from being in a different environment has helped me grow and become a better individual. Someone who doesn't move will forever lack certain traits because you are not exposed to different environments. Being from a different country, I have different thoughts on an American than Americans, but after being in America my perspective has altered. Being able to adapt to situations and environments, just as the frontiers had, has lead me to take more pride in my individual self. Going trough life significant life experiences has made me appreciate values of Americans like freedom and justice. The western mythology has helped shape this nation and is responsible for many

"You'll be alright, Beka. This is a great opportunity for you to make new friends" my mom said when she broke the news.. When my mom told me we were moving she said were moving to a small town, but she never really told me how small the town was.

It was a polluted, blazing hot morning and I felt like I had just been working out for the whole night. As I got ready to go to school, putting on my pollution mask, and taking my bike out, I was concerned not about the teachers and getting lost, but about fitting in. This wasn’t perfect Canada anymore, this was chaos filled, contaminated, messed up China! Everyone was so different from the people in Canada, they spoke quite rudely, they wore shaggy cloth, and their shelter was very traditional compared to the ‘modern style houses’ in Canada. You could say that my school was a giant playground with a playground mansion and an additional indoor playground. As I entered the humid environment of the Mansion, strange figures zoomed around

The purpose of this essay is to argue why athletes should benefit off of the profits generated from them. Informing what are the benefits to paying athletes and why we should pay athletes. I also want to inform you of the huge scheme of college athletics and a few lawsuits that have changed the course of paying college athletes and where we stand today in the fight for pay for play.

While he was leaving the room we both sat down being quite for a minute or two, not saying a word.

My mom was sad she left behind her whole family her mom, step dad, sister, and grandparent. Although it wasn’t a lot of people they meant the world to her. In Canada she always felt homesick. My mom couldn’t speak any English so the most communicating she would do on a daily basis was got to Tim Horton’s and ask for a coffee for herself and a treat for her son.

I have some news for you… You’re not going to like it”. The hardest thing for me yet, is trying to fit in. So, coming home to a parent saying we’re moving was amazing news, I couldn’t be happier. But, moving school districts was going to be a very hard obstacle to maneuver around. One year later, coming home from work, my father came up to me and told me he got a promotion in his job. I was thrilled for him, after that he told me we have to move again, this time to Texas. This is not what I had in mind, however, I still was happy for him and expected myself to accept the idea of making more friends in a different state.

“Where are we going?” She then looked at me and said, “We’re moving to Texas.” Out of all places, Texas? We lived in southern California our whole lives, so moving to Texas was definitely a shock to me. “What about our family and friends?” Her eyes began to water, so I knew talking about it further would only make things worse. Texas. It was stuck in my head and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The more I thought of it, the worse it sounded. The worst part was that it was so sudden, so it didn’t seem real. Because my parents are divorced, I spent the weekends at my dad’s house. He was torn that I was leaving Riverside, which of course meant that weekend visits would turn

It’s been almost five years since my family has moved to Canada, and I have never felt left out before. I never thought I ever would, but ever since I started attending school in Canada I had the fear that no one would like me.

My parents weren’t the first people in their family to move to Canada. Two of my dad’s brothers had lived in Canada for ten years prior to when we moved. Due to the downfall of Iran’s economy and constant war threats towards the country, my parents decided after they had me that in order to build a better life for not only me but also themselves, that the best choice was to move to another country. They’ve always dreamt of moving to Canada, so when they got the news that they were granted their VISA, they were overjoyed and eager to start a new life. They said that when the date got closer they began to have second thoughts. Imagine living somewhere for your whole life, your childhood, your teenage years and your adulthood, then having to leave

I remember my first day in Canada like it was yesterday. The day I thought my dad had been hit by a car and my mom almost having a heart attack. It all started when we first got to the hotel, in Ontario, Mississauga. My father thought it would be a great idea to explore the area and buy some groceries. My mom, two brothers and I were exhausted due to a fourteen-hour flight from Dubai to Toronto so we decided to stay and take a nap. I woke up at 7 pm to silence. I thought my dad had come back and took a nap, but when I went to wake up parents, it was only my mother. At that point, I started freaking out, it’s been 4 hours since my father left. I woke up my mother and told her my dad hadn’t come back yet. My mother tried to call my father, but his phone was off. She then went to the security of the building and talked to him. The security guard asked my mother

As I walked to the parking lot where my mom had arrived to pick me up from school, my sister ran out of the car, ran towards me and yelled excitedly, “We’re going to Canada!” Having grown up in Kuwait for my whole life of 15 years, I could hardly believe my sister’s words. Going to Canada! I had only been out of the country twice, each time just to vacation and visit family in the Philippines where both my parents are from. I had always imagined what life would be like outside of Kuwait, and now it was finally going to be real. My 15-year old self was devastated - We were leaving the only home I had known for 15 years. It did not take long for my sisters’ excitement to die when we realized that we would be leaving our friends and everything we’ve ever known and not returning for a long time. Life in Kuwait for 15 years was comfortable and we were more than financially stable. Moving to Canada without a job offer in place meant that we would have to start from the beginning all over again. Goodbyes were hard but my parents encouraged us to see the joys of moving to a place where we could start over and become accepted citizens of a country. Arriving in Canada, I experienced the biggest culture shock of my life. Vancouver, BC was cold, wet, and loud. I had thought adjusting would be relatively easy; I spoke English with a slight accent but I was very shy that it confused some of the other kids to think I couldn’t speak English. I did not understand the culture, which took a

So after we got done cleaning the kitchen, we went up and took a break.