Personal Narrative Essay : How My Mom Take Me To Mexico

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.

Waving goodbye from the backseat of the car, as we pull out of my parent’s driveway. Looking out the window at the oddly, white shaped clouds. Thinking, I had never been away from my parents and my younger sister for so long, even though it was only for two weeks. I was excited and scared all at once, but I wasn’t too thrilled about the whole 29-hour drive there. Hoping that the trip would go well and nothing bad will happen to us.

We had been waiting for this trip for years. Every 5 years we go on a trip to someplace fun. When five years passed after our trip to disneyland we were all waiting to go on some other adventure. I had done this twice, but 2 things about our trip this year were special.

My story would have never begun if my parents had not made a huge decision in my life, almost 15 years ago. When they decided to move our family across the border, my future would be become unknown. The fate I had been destined to have was completely altered, now, I had the opportunity to change my life for the better, to strive for something bigger. My parents pushed me to be the best I could be, and to work as hard as possible to get what I wanted. As the daughter of two Mexican immigrants I grew up in a very cultural household, and being surrounded by Spanish at all times. The only negative being I had to learn English on my own, and which led to me having some difficulty when I first started school. Yet, growing up in a Spanish speaking

My parents come from a small town in Michoacán, Mexico. Growing up, my first language was Spanish. There were situations where I would be embarrassed of my parents for not knowing how to speak English. People would give mean looks and give off a rude tone because of the fact they couldn't speak English. I was a shy person, so I didn't know how to defend my parents but those experiences shaped me into the person who is not embarrassed about having Mexican parents and helps them around with their English. I am a proud and lucky to be the daughter of Mexican parents. Aside from that, I had been an only child till I was eight years old. The day my sister was born, I knew she will be my best friend forever. She is now ten years old and looks up

I remember the day I first came to America. I was in the LAX airport, looking around the totally strange place which was full of strangers. All I could hear was the strangers' buzzing. I was upset about leaving all of people I knew and loved behind me to follow my father, mother and, sister here where we could find better "educational opportunities". I had grown up being around people who used the same language as me and had black hair and brown eyes. I spent my entire childhood in Buwtal Nepal until 2010. On April 27th 2010, I departed from Tribhuvan International Airport with my lovely parents and sister. My uncle was receiving us at the Airport. I still remember landing in New York around 8 o’ clock in the morning and that fresh smell in the air with the start of a whole new life.

One thing was certain - I could count on was the advice of my family. Coming from a closely knit community, family support was a surety. They provided the support needed to my many cousins who embarked on this journey before me. No matter what doors being a Hamptonian was about to open, I could never forget them. Their sheer determination to see me succeed at anything I put my mind to provided me with enough motivation for the mission.

Coming to AmericaThe year was 1948, and my grandmothers aunt and uncle came for a visit from Chicago to Germany to see their family. They had no children and had come to ask my grandmother if she would be interested in coming to Chicago to possibly live there w ith them. The idea of going appealed to her very much since her home city, Saarbrcken, was still partially destroyed from the WWII bombings. She always had the wanderlust in her blood coming from both sides of her family, so thinking about the towering skyscrapers, the bustling city streets, and the glamorous movies from America was quite enticing to my grandmother. With all off these wondrous thoughts swimming through her head, she enthusiastically agreed to go.Now, it was time to prepare

I was raised in a close-knit family household, which has left me with great memories and many stories, but I have also had first hand experience the troublesome transition of Mexican immigrant parents to America. However, the trajectory my of success my parents have had without any resources has encouraged and impacted me greatly to go out and help those in need, because everyone has the potential of greatness. Even though I didn't always have the dolls, clothes, home, or shoes I wanted, I was too busy to mind, because school academics and dance have been a passion of mine since I was smaller; it fills my heart with joy every time I am part of these things. Besides, having two brothers made everyday something special, and I still love taking

I have had two different names growing up. My parents came to America at the turn of the new millennium with big dreams and hopes. Coming from a devout Jainist society, their perspectives towards life were very different; they believed in hard work and most of all nonviolence. I, on the other hand grew up in a sweet, small southern town on the tip of Florida. Life was all about going to the sandy beaches, chilling with pals, and just having a “good ole time”.

Last year in October I came from school as usual I remember that day was very cold and I was covered in winter clothes my stomach growled from the hunger I had, so I went to eat a hot soup so that the cold would take away. While I ate the soup I listened as my parents talked I could not hear clearly so I decided to go quietly to listen to my parents they decided to move from Mexico to United States the reason why my parents decided that it was better to go to the United States was for job reasons, while I processed everything they said suddenly my mother called me along with my younger brother and explained the reasons why it was necessary for us to leave.

At age of eight I moved away from a country leaving everything my mother grandmother language everything going up I was very close to my grandmother both my mom side and my fathers my father mom was the one who raised me since I was nine months she offered to raise me because me and my brother are very close we are 9 1/2 months apart or cold my grandmother "BIBI"similar to Nana in English, she took very good care of me love her so much she was basically my mother I slept in the same bed as her she even had my own parts to cook my food in them nobody else could used when I turned six starting first grade parents moved far from her house and they took me away from her every weekend she would ask for me and call for me I only got to see her like

Mexico represent a lot to me. My family moved to Mexico when I was only 6 years old, I went to school there and spent most of my childhood and teenage years in this remarkable and beautiful country. For those and many other reasons I still have lots of good friends and family who live there. The connections are inevitable. I feel culturally connected and one of the things I miss the most is walking around the narrow streets of the towns I grew up and talking to the most friendly people around the neighborhoods buying and trying all sorts of street foods or little cravings (antojitos) as they called them in Mexico. The warm climate and going to the beach almost every week was always a plus and something to remember, since I lived near the ocean.

Ever since I was a child, I have heard multiple stories from my mother about her

As my eyes lit up like the fourth of July, I stood with my feet stuck to the ground, and my nerves tingle with happiness because of how marvelous it was. I didn't know a Mexico resort could be so nice.