Personal Narrative: Becoming An Immigrant

Welcome. A single word on the carpet by the door greets me whenever I come home. There had been times where that one word made my heart beat and cry with joy. But not now, for many things changed through the years. Now when I look at this carpet, I instead question back: ‘Do you really mean that?’

It was summer of 2010. My parents were still married and we went up to Wichita Falls, Wichita to go see my brother Chris who was in the Military on base working. We stayed there for a week. I still remember the car ride up there. We rented a van, we had tvs in the rented van, my sister Rylee, my other brother Garrett (he was in the military too), my mom Traci, and my dad Doug, and my brothers military bag it was like a person. I still remember I had to sit in the back with that bad it was so big. Garrett put the seatbelt around the bag like it was a person. The car trip was so long but it was all worth it in the end. It was in the middle of the week and we were out on the beach. My brother Chris and his pregnant wife Ashley had a boat the water

I came to US during my 8th grade and that was a life changing moment in my life. It was first time traveling aboard and that also not for a trip but for to permanent settlement. I was nervous my whole time been in the plane that how I will cope up with new environment and with bunch of English speakers. I got more. When it came pilot call for, that it's time to land on the Detroit Airport, tighten your seatbelts and be relax. As soon as the plane landed on American soil, I knew that this was the place where I’d to start a new life. Even though I knew America is the “Land of Opportunity”, everything here seemed so strange to me, the streets, the language and the people that was my first time traveling abroad.

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.

When I was 4, my father left my brother, mother and I and we were alone and had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. The way that I felt had only ever been expressed through poems that I had written over the years, but they were all full of anger and sadness and were all feelings that I

I was always a precocious child, yet argumentative and rebellious. I did not want to accomplish anything following a pattern set for me. I wanted to forge my own way. This determination set me at odds with my mother, and has defined our relationship all these years. It has surely led me down my own irregular path in life, and placed me in position to be the family’s black sheep.

I am from a country with beautiful landscapes that has turned into a warzone country.

I chose my immigrant participant from a personal perspective, yet not knowing much about him. Last year, my first year teaching, I had a little boy in my class that was Latino, very shy and quite. He struggled in reading and writing and after meeting with his parents and ESOL teacher several times, the decision was made to retain him in first grade. His parents, especially dad was hesitant about the decision, and began to tell small glimpses of how his son was very much like him, shy, and scared to reach out because of the language barrier. There was never much elaborated on, but I could tell that dad had possibly been in a similar situation before. This year, I was lucky enough to have this same child in my first grade class again. After receiving

At the age of fifteen, I could barely speak an English word. As I sat on the plane with a blank head flying across from Vietnam to the United States, I knew completely nothing what’s going to happen in my life. After almost twenty-four hours sitting on an intolerable chair, I arrived, as I looked above my head “Welcome to the United States”. And yes, welcome to my story, and undoubtedly my experience is the author.

Being born in the large west African nation of Nigeria, I was aware of the economic, social, and health hardships faced by many people in my country. This reality did not escape my life and the hardships my family and I faced while in Nigeria had a profound impact in the person I am today. Fortunately for us we were able to win the Visa Lottery and immigrate to America where my passion for learning and science began.

We started off with a bang. We started with me thinking of what to do how to do it and what were my ideas. Then, a little later we actually started it and not gonna lie, it was scary. I didn’t know that much about my family, yeah i've heard stories but they're stories. Later on we went home i didn’t tell my family anything just unsuspiciously getting all the information and I learned a lot yes. I learned about my names and why they're my names, I learned about my dad getting lost a lot, I learned about my mom moving here to america when she was 14 and how her life was before she moved and why she moved. I learned about my uncle going to jail for crossing the border illegally which is kinda funny. All those I learned but i couldn’t find anything

My entire life was changing and falling apart around me. In the two years since my mother had died, father had turned into a gambling womanizer. He spent most of his time looking for any woman with a dowery large enough for us to stay at Ashlake Manor. Our home was in ruins, and we had to let most of our servants go.

I grew up in a very poor neighborhood hood, so everyday for me was difficult not knowing if I will eat or sleep on the streets. I can remember the moment where my father abandoned my mother and I. I was very young at the time I had just turned 7 years old. My father and mother had a very unhappy relationship it was very easy to tell they were not happy. I remember it was a Monday, November 4, 2002 my mother was staying with my aunt because my aunt was diagnosed with cancer and my mother was helping her out. It was my birthday I was so excited that day because I was suppose to get a gift from my father. I woke up that morning ran quickly to his room to find him not there, I ran outside thinking he was fixing his car or just rebuilding the birdhouse

It seemed like I was talking about the same thing over and over but all I could think of were about my feelings. I was only thinking of myself at that moment and not of anyone around me, I was selfish. It was crazy to think that everything was going fine one day and the next day everything turned upside down. I finally understood the news on the television about children of immigrant parents being scared everyday you can possibly think of. I became one of those statistics that they talk about all around. Losing my dad was one of the most hardest things that had happen to me out of all my 18 years of living, and there might be more in the future but this hit me the hardest. I never imagined my dad to be ripped from me and less did I ever to

With a new life and having to assume that my father wouldn’t be living with us was hard, but it got harder when months later my mom started seeing someone else. I couldn’t stand the fact of having another man in our lives that wasn’t my dad I was determined to make his life impossible. Months and years went by and eventually we had to face the fact that the man was going to be in our lives