Personal Narrative- A Lesson in Culture Shock Essay

Even though I’ve eaten lobster rolls, sported L.L. Bean jackets, and cruised lighthouse-studded coastlines, I am anything but a New-Englander. Though this has been by 4th year in Massachusetts, I still feel like I’m still the new kid on the block, the midwestern girl who’s naive to the traditions and expectations of New England. But, I am comfortable here, a result of many challenges I had to face over the time I spent in Massachusetts. These challenges did not arise when I first moved out—I was very unhappy the first and second year—it was during Sophomore year, when I started to adapt and be happy, did challenges from home spring forth on me. These challenges were from the people that I had left, family, friends, and others who felt that

I was thirteen when I moved to the United States. July 7, 2007 was the day my brothers and I packed up our belongings and left Haiti. It was a very exciting day because I got the chance to be on an extremely large white and blue airplane for the first time, and most importantly, reunite with my parents, whom I did not know because my father left Haiti when I was three years old, and my mother left a several years later. As a teenager, I had the mindset of living in a fairytale land. I did not think about the possible challenges I might encounter after leaving my homeland. The idea of adjusting to a new culture, learning a new language, and socializing with others that do not have the same tongue as me never ever crossed my mind. Little did

Throughout my life, I have struggled with accepting my cultural identity. My parents were born and raised in India, but I was born here, in the United States, and hence, born an American citizen.

Life is unpredictable and no one could gifted with a foresight. I still remember that day when I boarded the plane, from China to America, up to eighteen hours of travel. When I step on the land of America, my life instantly changed. The exaggerated graffiti on the wall with a twisted smile looks like the one who is saying “Hi.” to me. When I go in to my “home”,mice and cockroaches are all around. The teen who stand near the door says, “Welcome to America.”

What is culture? Culture is the idea of what is wrong or right, the concept of what is acceptable within our society. Culture serves us as a guide, taking us to the "right way" and helping us to make sense of things that surrounds us. There are many different cultures around the world. A lot of them are similar in specific ways and others are just completely different, this difference explains why we think that people from different backgrounds are "weird".

I would like to see who could survive as long he did with just books that state some facts. We all have this idea that we could do better then anyone else. For example, the elections are coming up. Numerous people believed that Barack Obama was a lousy president and can not wait to see him leave. The same people also say how they would be a much better president than him. I have no idea how to run a country with millions of people in it and I have a very high suspicion that others who aren’t in politics no either. Just like this not everyone is an expert on how to survive in Alaska.

Undeniably, the Mexican border is vulnerable to exploitation as cases from cartels’ use of tunnels would demonstrate, and this cannot be disputed. However, the comparison of drug smuggling to immigration is false equivalence. There is no incentive to spend the time, risk, and resources to construct an 800 odd meter tunnel in order to smuggle impoverished families. Generally speaking, the amount of risk involved in building these tunnels is only justified by the vast profit that these drugs bring. The risk of tunnel collapses and cartel interference, as well as possible detection, are potentially deterring factors.

He looked at me and said thank you doctor. I was volunteering for Give kids a smile at Toto dental when Carlos, walked inside the room that I had set up for him with his mom. As soon as he saw the anesthetic syringe on the table, his first tear broke free and the rest followed in an unbroken stream, he was squeezing his mom’s hand and he was looking at me in fear. I leaned down and started a conversation with him in hopes of making him laugh and comfortable. He stopped crying and smiled wide with his cheeky red face. Can I put you on the chair? I asked. He smiled and said: Only if you would hold my hand and stay right here with me. He was squeezing my hands with all of his powers when the doctor said: we are done, you did a great job Carlos. Without hesitation he looked at me and said thank you doctor and proceeded to give me a hug.

My “outside” cultural influences I have: America is one of the most ethnically diverse countries in the world culturally. We have German-Americans speaking German, Filipino-Americans speaking Tagalog, Irish-Americans speaking Irish, Scandinavian-Americans speaking Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, etc., Welsh-Americans speaking Welsh, Japanese-Americans speaking Japanese, Iraqi-Americans speaking Arabian, Mexican-Americans speaking Spanish, and all Americans united in the common goal to create the best possible nation in accordance with our Constitution.

Being born in Houston, Texas is a privilege in itself learning what gifts I have been given from being an american and how to use them. As Abraham Lincoln once said ¨My dream is of a place and a time where America will once again be seen as the last best hope of earth.¨ I completely agree it shows how our generation can make a change in America as well as what gifts we have received.

My poor and uneducated mother immigrated to the United States in two thousand one and brought me along at the age of four where she knew I would have a viable opportunity of becoming something more than what our poverty stricken, gang ridden country could offer. My father in a cruel gesture named me Leo without my mother's approval, for he figured a hypocoristic name would allow me, a future illiterate, to at least write my own name. A decade later after experiencing variations of homelessness, hunger, medical conditions, and gunshots outside of our home, my mother remarried, and gave birth to my brother who has been a blessing in disguise. After my mother's short-lived marriage we struggled financially once again; however this time we were

My generation is very fortunate , because there were amazing people that fought for the things that we have today . Americans Gift to my Generation involves freedom , free speech , the freedom to believe in your own religion , and that all people are treated equal . All of these things are very important so that you can be your own person .

What do you want to be when you grow up? When I was four, I wanted to be a princess, like Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty; except, without the evil step-family and the vengeful evil queen hunting me. I wanted the pretty dress; and let’s be honest, I wanted the handsome prince. By the time I was nine, I was convinced I would be country star. I wanted to be the best of the best, and stardom seemed like the way to do it. With Taylor Swift as my idol there was no way my plan could go awry. Thirteen hit me and I decided I was too grown up for such childish desires, and my plans changed to becoming a neurosurgeon. Today, if you were to ask me who I want to be when I grow up, my reply would be that I have no clue. I can only tell you three things I want to do; the same three things I have to do. I have to remain hopeful, become the best version of me that I can possibly be, and most importantly, I have to pursue my dreams. These are my responsibilities to America.

Many people writing this essay are going to talk about their religion or what race they are. But this is my personal cultural identity essay. I don't have a religion that I talk about or a race that I care about. My cultural identity is about sports, family and everything that makes me, me.

What is society and how did it help shape me into the person I am today? First, society is the state of living in organized groups of people. These organized groups of people are the ones that made me who I am today and will continue to shape me, as I grow older. My version of society is white middle class people who grow up going to catholic schools. These white middle class people are only associated with other white middle class people, and very seldom venture out of this little society. As stupid as that sounds to not associate with other people it is true. The reason this is true is because of where I live, where I go to school, and who my friends are. I guess it is just like