Personal Narrative: Learning A New Culture

I started drawing when I was 16. I was cursing 10th grade, or how is called in my country, Dominican Republic “Segundo de Bachillerato”. It was recess. I was alone in my classroom that day, besides two or three people who were just killing time there, and I didn’t had much to do with my time. I was at the last book of a series of books which names I can’t remember and If I recall correctly the last book was very boring for some reason so I didn’t wanted to read it anymore. So, looking for something to do, I stood from my seat and walked boringly down the aisle of chairs and that was, not my first interaction with art, but the first time I remember i liked art or paid attention to it. Yerkis, a guy of my class: short, chubby and well mannered

My motherland was not like my peers in the United States, instead it was very different from my friends. I was born in China. My biological parents abandoned me in a box by a train station when I was only a couple of days old for an undisclosed reason. An adoption agency found the box, and then a few weeks later a foster family took me into their home and raised me as their child.

I was born in a middle class family in China and my parents care about me very much. Before I was even born, my farther adjusted the business hour of his clinic to make more profit by accepting more patients and my mother was a nurse who worked in my dad’s clinic, so they saved the money to send me to school and prepare to move to the U.S. Most of the members of my family already moved to the U.S. Moreover, once my aunt got her U.S. citizenship, she, as the sponsor, was able to apply for us to come. When I was 15, we finally got our immigrant visas and my parents told me we were ready for move to the America. Therefore, we sold everything we had in China we were staying at my uncle’s house in Hong Kong because we need to take the airplane from Hong Kong to Missouri, U.S. I still remember what my uncle said to me because he looked at me with a very serious face that caught my attention. “Qianxin, the America is different from China. I’ve heard people said life in the America is harder than China. However, if you work hard enough, you will get what you deserve.” The words are always in my mind. I tried to do my best in school and in everything because I want to be the person who can help my family.

My parents grew up in China as illiterates. My mother worked in the rice paddies and barley fields to keep her and her six siblings alive. My father sold himself into slavery at the age of 12 to ensure that his grandfather would have a coffin to be buried in. Together, they came to the United States where

What is culture? Culture is the idea of what is wrong or right, the concept of what is acceptable within our society. Culture serves us as a guide, taking us to the "right way" and helping us to make sense of things that surrounds us. There are many different cultures around the world. A lot of them are similar in specific ways and others are just completely different, this difference explains why we think that people from different backgrounds are "weird".

My parents sent me to China soon after I was born to be in the care of my grandparents due to financial circumstances. For five years, I regarded my grandparents as my parental figures, and I always questioned why my “parents” were so old compared to my friends’ parents. I realized the truth the first time my mom called me and my grandparents told me who she was. After that phone call, my parents started to call me more frequently, and I always asked them questions about their life, as I was curious. Usually, I would forget these conversations, but sometimes, after a call, I wondered how different their lives were from mine’s; I imagined them as being wealthy and living in a big house. While I enjoyed talking to them, I never imagined the day that I would receive the shocking news that I was going to move to America to live with my

I was born in Kerala, India and was raised in Chicago, IL. I came to America at the age of three hoping for a better future. My father came to America first, and he lived with my Aunt who had three sons. After two years my father saved enough money to bring my mom, sister, and I to the US. During this time he would work as a dishwasher at a nursing home to support my family. After a month of living with my Aunty and her kids my dad found an apartment to rent. Eventually, we moved into a tiny one-bedroom apartment with my family. That was the hardest time period for me due to language barriers. My sister and I started to learn English. However, my parents were struggling to learn a new language so we would have to go everywhere with them to translate. Another, difficulty that we faced was financial issues. At that time we were making ends-meet and we were scraping every penny that we got. Afterwards, my mom got her CNA license she started working two jobs when I was only four years old. Even till this day she is still working two jobs to support the

What Italian explorer Amerigo Vespucci coined "The New World" was now overrun by man-eating zombies. It all started in Chile and Argentina; news of a highly infectious pathogen had begun spreading at breakneck speeds. By the time epidemiologists had discovered the cause of this pathogen it had already spread to the Western half of the United States and was making its way east.

If I was a European thinking about moving to the New World, I would base my decision based off the images and descriptions that were available. One of the images that would deter me from migrating away was a piece of artwork done by Jacques Le Moyne. His picture entails a group of natives who are trying to fight off a fearsome looking alligator. Theodore De Bry describes them plunging a pole into it’s mouth and turning it around so they can stab their stomach. He goes on to say that the natives have to watch out for them day and night because of how frequent they appear. Since I don’t really know how to defend myself against such creatures, I would be afraid to live somewhere where danger is constant. I also would not want to deal with vampire

Coming to the United States from Taiwan at the age of 3 was a long and difficult process. At times I would wonder when and if I was ever going to be adopted or assigned to a family. I recall that I used to scream, cry, and throw tantrums as I grew up. Adjusting from a small crowded orphanage to a big comfortable home with my new permanent family was easy. However, becoming accustomed to a new language and culture without peers next to me who understood

In 2004, my family emigrated to America from Pakistan. Our lives in Pakistan were better than most. We lived in a huge condo and my father owned a plant nursery which earned him enough money to support us. However, my parents wanted their kids to have a better future and become something great one day. This wasn’t really possible in Pakistan; the education system wasn’t great and it wasn’t safe either. Because of this, we emigrated to America so my siblings and I could achieve the American dream through proper education. Little did I know that my life would drastically change.

I was born in the United States, in a well known state called California, where the weather is always perfect and a multitude of opportunities lie ahead. My mother was born in Tijuana Mexico and was brought into the United States when she was only 2 years old and was raised by her single mother. My father was born in Guatemala City, Guatemala and was brought into the United States when he was 8 years old, he was raised by his grandmother. My mother graduated with her Graduate degree at Azusa Pacific University. My father made it to 10th grade in high school. My mother and father raised me for a short period of time and then my mother, aunt and grandmother assisted in raising me through adolescences. Beyond my parents, my grandparents were from Central America and Mexico, and my great grandparents migrated from Spain and Italy. So basically, I am a melting

I was born in India in a place called Garividi, my mother’s hometown. However, I never grew up there, I spent the first five years of my life in a city called Hyderabad. Now, I moved to a lot of places in my life and the reason for all of the moves is my father switching to new jobs because he wanted a better salary and a better job. My father got a job offer from a plastic company in Dubai, so we packed our bags and moved to Dubai. This is where went to preschool for 1 year. From there we moved to Sharjah, another city in the U.A.E., where I went to

I was born in Queretaro Mexico, along with my 4 siblings. My parents decided to move to another country for a better life, for all of us. At the time I was only three years old, so I don’t remember everything that happened. This was life changing, but not just for me, for my parents too. This was a chance for them to start over and provide a better future for us. So we left with the clothes on our backs and took the money we had and fit ourselves in our small suv, at the time my mother was pregnant. From Mexico my parents took us to Florida where we had family. They gave us a place to stay and even a change of clothes. Eventually my dad decided to move to North Carolina, and that's where we are today. But because of what we did, the only person who could have a job was my dad. In time, he saved up enough so that we could go back to Mexico and come back the correct way. This process took almost two months to complete. Although my mother wasn’t able to go with us, she would eventually have the opportunity in the near future.

For years, I convinced myself that the story of my life began when I arrived in America at eleven months old. I tumbled through the clichéd white-picket-fence childhood, never realizing how impossible it was to completely discard the first year of my infancy. While I had always known about being adopted from China, I did not fully comprehend the weight of this detail until my late teenage years.