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Personal Narrative: I Was New American

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I was new. No. The world was new. The buildings loomed taller. The colors were duller. The weather was colder. Even the people seemed alien. They moved their mouths and yet the sounds that came out were strange, accented in the wrong places and fluid in others. I was new to America. My dad had been accepted into Wharton. This meant leaving the comfort of what’s familiar to venture into the unknown. It was terrifying. My dad, my mom, my dog, and I took a 20 hour flight into a different world. Soon I was enrolled in a public school and it all went downhill from there. A chubby Indian kid who had a buzz cut, a Transformers backpack, and who couldn’t speak a word of english didn't exactly equate to easy assimilation. It was rough. The looks thrown my way ranged from confused to downright hostile. I was an …show more content…

Whispers swirled around me as I walked into any room. (“Who is she?” “What is she wearing?”) As I ate my food. (“Ew! That smells” “She does this everyday!”) As I left. (“Oh, thank god.”) Because of this I tried desperately to change myself. I watched countless movies to try and mask my accent. I saw what the other girls were wearing and aspired to be just like them. I wanted the pretty blonde hair and to wear their pretty clothes. I tried to eat what they ate and pretend to not like my ethnic food. I tried to become a different person. However, this all changed when I met Justin. It was a normal day in class as the teacher walked to the front of the room to introduce a new student. His name was Justin, all legs and arms, lanky and tall with a mop of red hair and a speech impediment. He was peculiar. I instantly liked him. He was different. Like me. And for that exact reason he was the next victim of ridicule. They made fun of his speech. (“Can he not speak?” “What’s wrong with him?”) They made fun of his mannerisms. (“Why doesn’t he look at people when they

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