Personal Narrative: I Wasn T Born In The US

My family comes from a humble background. My grandmother started working at the age of 13, with small jobs in order to feed her siblings. My grandfather worked many hard labor jobs in order to provide for our family. With my grandfather’s hard work, he was able to bring my grandmother, my two uncles, my father, my mother, my brother and I into the U.S. My grandparents decided to migrate to the U.S because in Mexico, they had nothing. They had enough to eat but they were still struggling to come out of poverty. When my grandparents migrated into the U.S my grandfather would still work a blue collar job, until he fractured his spine and couldn't work anymore. Nevertheless, that did not stop him from working. He began selling in swap meets, selling

“Times of transition are strenuous, but I love them. They are an opportunity to purge, rethink priorities, and be intentional about new habits. We can make our new normal any way we want”. -Kristin Armstrong. When I heard this quote it reminds me of a specific time in my life when I moved to another country. There are a couple of events that helped me become who I am now.

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.

Coming to the United States was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was born in Dagahaley, Kenya where I lived for fourteen years. My family and I had to go through a lot to get to the United States. Most people wanted to come to the United States because life is better here then it is there. You have to be lucky to get picked and we were fortunate to be able to move to the United States. After you get picked you have to go through multiple tests over the course of about eight to nine months. If you pass the test you get to go, but if you do not than you had to stay back in Africa and would not have another chance. When I first heard we were going to America I was so excited and everything, but then it hit me and thought about it what

Hi, I’m Anna Sophia Wager and I am from Germany. I immigrated to the United States in 1908. There was a big drought and my mother and father were very ill. I was helping my parents and my other family. One day, my father pulled me aside after school. I was a teacher at Berlin British School. He talked very softly. “Anna Sophia,” My father said, “Here is a ticket to Americana. Go and find Ben.” Ben was my older brother. My parents gave him a ticket to the United States. I looked at the ticket. It was a ticket that was golden brown. I gave my father a hug and ran to my room. I started packing, I didn’t know what was ahead of me. It was finally my third week on the crowded boat. When I look own the steerage door I see the dirty faces, hard lumpy beds, and chunky slimy soup.

When I arrived to the United States I faced a challenging situation in my life, I didn’t know English. This challenging as I didn’t know how to communicate with any of my teachers or classmates, and I wasn’t able to do any of my work. Not being able to participate in class upsetted me because in Mexico I was use to doing all my classwork and homework. Therefore, I decided that I was going to do everything in my power to learn English quickly. So, when the my ESL teacher announced to my parents that they were going to have to take to school during the summer, I didn’t mind at all. When I was in summer school I learned a lot of English due to my determination and my hard work. Looking back I wouldn’t do things differently because I know that

Throughout my entire life I have heard the word “immigrant” countless times, inmy childhood, in my middle school days, and especially nowadays with the controversial topic taking over social media. I’ve been labelled with this word or image ever since my birth, and yet I still don’t exactly know how I should feel about that.

I am the first generation of my family members that has been raised at and attended school in the United States. My siblings were raised and educated in Mexico later transitioning to the U.S. when I was 4. My family from a young age to now has only been made up of my mom, two sisters, nephews, and niece slowly growing as time passes.

“Papa, no te vayas!” (Daddy, don’t go!) Those were the words that I said with tears streaming down my face every time my dad left our home in Mexico to return to California. I recall this fractured family existence, this inevitable sacrifice of separation in order to survive for seven long years, until my parents decided that it was time to reunite in the United States and finally become a stable family. While the United States was a new setting for my family, it was not a new place for me as it was my birth country. Yet, I remember feeling harassed and excluded, common emotions among immigrants to the U.S. and this new emotion created a fear I was unaccustomed to; I felt scared of this new lifestyle and of the limited possibilities.

Moving to the United States is a huge step for an immigrant. As an international student, I have been passing through this event that most Brazilian desire to. However, it is hard to adapt with the new culture and lifestyle, knowing that I have my own values. The “Two Ways to Belong in America” illustrates two views of getting used with this new culture, in which I identified myself with one of these ways: my nationality cannot be change with a simple paper called green card. Thus, starting a new life in a foreign country is tough because I have to find a way to readjust to this new culture, not ignoring

I am Patt Ryan, an eighteen year old farmer who came to america with a life saving of $3.56. I came with my brother Matt Ryan, a seventeen year old farmer with the life savings of $1.35. We came to America because we wanted to find a better way of life. We also came to find religious freedom. We knew that we would be able to find this in America. My brother and I could not wait to see what America had in store for us. My brother Matt and I sailed to America on the very full Alexina boat. It was a poorly built, crowded boat filled with diseases and short of food. As a result, many of us Irish immigrants got a disease and many others died before we even got to America. My brother and I were one of the lucky ones to stay fairly healthy. Others

Attempting to maintain an education while simultaneously being aware at the fact that my birth giver, my mother, is not a legal American citizen hindered my mentality and work ethic ever since I entered high school. I reminisce about waking up in the morning and faintly hearing my mother grieving in hopes of being able to obtain an American citizenship. I reminisce about being with my mother and praying with for the slightest aspiration of conceiving an American citizenship.

Somebody’s opinion on what it means to be American, can change over time based on what generation they were a part of and what they did or experienced during their lifetime. In my generation, American identity doesn’t consist of a certain ethnicity or religion, but everyone should exercise their rights and be successful in school. To prove that opinions change over different time periods, I interviewed my two grandparents and my parents who have experienced many interesting things throughout their lives. My grandfather has served in the air force and my grandmother was born during the time of World War II. Furthermore, my mother moved to America when she was fifteen, from the Philippines while my father lived here and in a few other countries throughout his life. By interviewing my family of different generations, I hope to find that historic events and experiences will alter what they think of our home country.

I stand in a forest of green trees and red brick buildings, I walk down to orientation and as I sit the first country on the PowerPoint is Argentina the next Brazil. As I stare I realize only international countries have been listed. They ask each international student to stand up and name their country of origin. To some, that was an easy and obvious question, to me it was always a nightmare. People constantly ask me:

I began to help my mom around the house. I had to learn how to cook a proper meal when I was seven years old, do laundry among other things to give my mom some relief. One day, when I was nine years old, my grandmother shared the news of my father’s departure to the U.S and that he did so to give me a better chance. It was heavy news for me, and as an emotional child I cried with my grandma and felt sad that from now on I was not going to get the occasional visit from him. As a teenager in the process of growing into a man, you think you need a father figure, a man perspective, advice on things that life throw at you, it was clear that I didn’t have that anymore. I was fortunate to have my mother and my grandmother to teach me right and wrong; the rest was pretty much up to me.