Personal Narrative: Life In The USA

Studying in a foreign country is an interesting experience of an individual lifetime. One tends to learn a number of things relating to ways of life in a foreign land. Social, political and economic values and aspects are usually different from one region to another. Therefore, through studying abroad one is able to learn different issues about another society such as gender and sexuality issues, social class and race/ethnicity issues. Having come from a developing country studying in the U.S.A has been a great experience personally. This paper will attempt to provide a reflection of my personal experience on studying in the U.S by comparing the history of Angola and the U.S.

Growing up in Ghana, I had heard a lot of things about the U.S. This was a country I had always wanted to visit; my prayer was answered when I got the opportunity to travel there. Arriving in a new environment came with many experiences. Adjusting with food, language and the weather was not easy. With the passage of time, however I have been able to0 adjust and fit it. This write-up therefore is to elaborate on my experiences since coming to U.S.

Growing up in America, the majority of people are never worried about where their next meal is coming from or how it was prepared. I have personally been spoiled throughout my life always having an abundant supply of food along with a mother that cooked every meal for me. I dreaded waking up at 5am every morning to head off to the chicken house and pick up, at times, hundreds of dead chickens. Taking Food Science 1000 this semester, I now have a wealth of knowledge about food and food science. I now have a greater appreciation for farmers worldwide as their hard work provides billions of families with food. It has shown me that even small family operations, like my family's, still make a huge impact on the world. Before this class I never really

“American Dream.” Those two words are what drove my parents to escape the challenges of living in poverty stricken Colombia. Being a first generation, young, female, Latina immigrant my upbringing has made me fortunate enough to embrace all of the opportunities available for me.

Major changes in many kids live breeds from their family’s transition from one place to another. Most times they move a couple blocks or to another city or another state. The transition is arduous, but as hard as it is, most American kids don’t cross the Atlantic ocean to reside on a whole new continent. That is my story.

Growing up in the United States, popular culture has always threatened some part of my cultural identity. In this sense, I can sympathize with a legion of other youths in the same situation. In order to assimilate into American culture, it becomes almost absolute to lose some part of ethnic heritage. Although I still spoke and understood the language, it was progressively harder for me to communicate to my immigrant parents.

One day I was sitting in English class doing my work. Then a flying whale flew into the wall and destroyed it. It flew over to me and swallowed me whole. It then just flew back to the ocean. While in the whale's stomach I saw some interesting things like a dead person, a needle with steroids in it, a few soccer balls, a rabbit, and a roll of duct tape. After I had been in the whale's stomach for about 3 hours, it started to shake violently. Then something was squeezing the life out of the whale. All of the sudden i was flying through the air along with everything else. I landed on some sort of island.

Living in the United States shaped my character. When I was young my family moved from refugee. In the beginning life was tough getting adjusted to the american life. At a young age I understood that some people looked down upon me because of my background. I had a hard time getting along with other students because of cultural clash. After a while I was able to understand the American culture. My mom was a single parent with six other children and the only place we could find to live in was a neighborhood that was not safe. My mother would never allow us to go outside because she was afraid that we would get in trouble. It was not until college that I was able to understand all I was missing out in the world.

An american story is a story revolving around his or her lifestyle, culture and everyday habits. This is about past experiences, accomplishments, and biggest downfalls. I will be discussing not only my biggest accomplishments, but also my biggest failures that I have occurred in life. What will my american story be? Keep reading to find out.

What do you want to be when you grow up? When I was four, I wanted to be a princess, like Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty; except, without the evil step-family and the vengeful evil queen hunting me. I wanted the pretty dress; and let’s be honest, I wanted the handsome prince. By the time I was nine, I was convinced I would be country star. I wanted to be the best of the best, and stardom seemed like the way to do it. With Taylor Swift as my idol there was no way my plan could go awry. Thirteen hit me and I decided I was too grown up for such childish desires, and my plans changed to becoming a neurosurgeon. Today, if you were to ask me who I want to be when I grow up, my reply would be that I have no clue. I can only tell you three things I want to do; the same three things I have to do. I have to remain hopeful, become the best version of me that I can possibly be, and most importantly, I have to pursue my dreams. These are my responsibilities to America.

Life in the United States for us had been unkind. My father and I lived in a really beaten up trailer home in NE Portland. We had no money and were on the verge of being homeless. Too poor to buy food from the grocery store, we survived on nearly spoiled food from local food banks and the extra food I’d bring from school. Our trailer, with poor 1970’s insulation and paper thin aluminum tin exterior was an icebox that accumulated all that winter could give. We had no heating, nor electricity, so much of my of time, I spent at my high school, which kept me warm and fed me Monday through Friday. Conditions had been so severe that few times we just abandoned our lives the United States altogether lived in different countries such as Bolivia,

I never imagined I would live in the United States. I was born in Ethiopia, and I grew up in Addis Ababa capital city of Ethiopia, but my childhood was not good because my father passed when I was 3 years old. After my father passed away, my mom helped my sister and me with a lot of things, and she raised us very well and I always grateful for that. My first language is Amharic. English is my second language. I learned English in high school. Amharic is the official language in Ethiopia. So, I came to America 2007. Here in US, the culture is way different from Ethiopia.

I have been born and brought up in America, therefore, I identify with the American culture. The American culture borrows heavily from different cultures across the globe. The neighborhood I was brought up in was instrumental in the definition of and formation of my culture and the norms that I surrounded myself with and came to identify with. My parents taught me the value of education, as in American culture education is one of the most highly valuable attributed. I have also taken up Christianity as a religion to identify with as I have learned from the people in my surroundings.

At times it is easy to forget that I am American since both English and American cultures have several overlapping characteristics. However, I become aware of my identity whenever education or politics comes up in conversation. These are topics that prior knowledge is essential in understanding the flow of conversation. There were several instances with fellow front of house volunteers deciding schools, courses, and revising. They would talk about different universities and how they loathed revising their coursework. In my mind, I would be at lost regarding the university and its location. Furthermore, I struggled with understanding why they would have so many “essays” to revise. Lastly, I become extremely aware of my American identity when

I have walked this path everyday for almost 15 years now since I was a young child. The path itself is next my childhood house in Doorest; the forest surrounding my house. I walk this path to clear my mind, it helps me separate from my stressful life outside this forest.