Personal Narrative: I Am Bilingual

The language is defined as “human communication through the use of spoken or written words,” but that definition must include that language is also a cultural identity – “the fact of being who or what a person or thing is”. In other words, the language provides information about your roots; it is one of the most valuable resources to communicate with your mother culture.

As an American born and raised, I have surprisingly, never given much thought on how my race impacts my life and the people around me. It seems as if society today is obsessed with knowing what we are racially and where we come from, rather than our character and how we think or how we carry ourselves culturally.

My parents always wanted to give their children the life they never had. I am Mexican-American, both of my parents immigrated from Mexico to the U.S. before I was born. I have numerous relatives, including my older sister, who do not have the same opportunities I have to achieve success because they are undocumented. For them, college was only a dream that could never be attained. Being the first U.S. citizen out of my entire family affected the way I thought about life. It was expected that I would attend college because I was the only one who had access to all the resources granted to American citizens. Although, I agreed with my family, the pressure to succeed and be a role model to my younger siblings was overwhelming.

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

Sometimes I feel like I live in two worlds. one world or life is when I was in Puerto Rico where life was effortless and elementary,lots of leisure, and so much more fun. but i also have my world and life here in Boston where is not completely obscured. in boston it is where i am asked to identify myself. it is where people ask me what am i? i have always responded with “ i am puerto rican and black.” that sounds about right my mother is puerto rican and my father is black. most people act like it is strange for me to look and talk the way i do yet not be what they thought. in either world i have never really thought deeply about my ethnic origin because i always said i am puerto rican and black american that is it and nothing more needed to

I am Mexican-American. It took me years to finally be able to say that with a sincere feeling of pride. Both of my parents were born in Mexico and moved here before they had a chance to attend college, so my entire life I’ve been exposed to both Mexican culture and American culture. Instead of seeing my multi-cultured world as unique and special, I saw it as a sort of disadvantage, but as time went on and I became more educated on the successes of Mexican-Americans, I had a newfound understanding and appreciation of the culture which consequentially influenced my future aspirations.

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

I am an immigrant, originating from Ukraine. I moved here three years ago to take advantage of the “land of the free”. I had heard of the conscription under Russian imperial dictators, such as Tzar Nicolas, and Soviet despots, like Stalin. Fourcing an individual to perform a service, regardless of the cause, seems to be slavery to me. When I found that men in America must register for the draft, in my eyes, “the land of the free” became slightly less free. It is abhorrent that men may be required to enlist in the military, and equally so for women and therefore should not be tied to feredal grants.

Looking back to the past, before I was born, I never really knew where my ancestors came from or why they even came here in the first place. It was never made a big deal in my family to talk about our history and the reasons why they came to American. So, I decided to do a little research and find out a little bit about myself, my culture, and my communication styles. I asked for a little bit of help from my grandmothers from each side of my family. I got an abundance of information that opened my eyes to a new past that I didn’t even know about.

No one get’s to choose what environment in which they were raised. I grew up in a very difficult environment that has affected me in various ways. Although it has left some very scaring memories, it has made me who I am today.

Imagine going to a new country, knowing nobody, not even the language. How would you feel? What would you do? My family and I were in this situation thirteen years ago. It was difficult to completely start our lives over and build our family again piece by piece. Recently, people have deemed immigrants as ‘drug mules’ or ‘evil rapists’ and more and more frequently I see on the news the hate unleashed towards them. They are the ‘other’ and it is easy to say these things about people you don’t know. It is easy to generalize a group when you only know the crimes of one person. This country that was built on the hard work of immigrants has begun to hate them. As humans, we want to protect our family and those we love, even it it means saying horrible

Being an immigrant is a mind numbing experience. I didn't know a speck of english and I barely understood my teacher. I had to adjust to the whole new culture. But at age 6 that was easy. I quickly figured out that in here we didn’t have to pray every monday. I didn’t have to put on a uniform everyday. I can easily get free food from the cafeteria when my mother signed me up for the free lunch program. In America I didn’t have to smell the canal and street trash anymore. In just 3 weeks my whole life changed. I got used to it for about 2 years, then I had to go back. Back to the gang-filled, starving, broken house that I was born in.

She is same, yet she is different. I don’t know how, it seems magical. She is borned in Sergeant of Law family, a lower class in the nobles. She loves to read books, she rarely smiles, always quiet and calm. It seems like no one can draw her attention. I always find myself focusing on her, I wish to know her better.

Being part of the Dual Language program is an experience I cherish because of how it molded me into the person I am today; someone who appreciates their two cultures. I was apart of the Dual Language club in high school, that was a club for bilingual students and for Dual Language students. Further, being part of a diverse program made me realize that I want to continue to celebrate and appreciate my two cultures. The Dual Language program exposed me to a culture embedded in my roots, for that I am thankful for it. Being active and part of two different cultures has impacted me more than any other experience.

Historically, there have been events that led to violence to a single ethnicity. A particular event goes back when America was first discovered. European settlers came and took vast amount of land of the Natives. They took over their land and brought disease with them that killed off the Natives. For what the Europeans have done, they wanted to restore equality and proposed a treaty. They would give the Native Americas some land, that they would not trespass. They wanted to give them privileges to correct the in morality that they caused. I believe that it was right, to give them privileges, since these people went through suffering and injustice. They were in there own land and were being pushed aside for the benefit of another ethnicity who