Personal Narrative: Moving Back To My Family In Kurdistan

The purpose for writing this narrative is to demonstrate the things that influenced me in the past to become the person who I am today. Adapting to a new culture and struggling in academics is not something I only experienced. There are many immigrant students that give up school because they can not adapt the academic challenges or the differences in the school culture. My story can be inspiring to many young immigrant students to strive for success. I went to diverse high school where immigrants are a significant portion of the student body. One of my 10th grade friend had dropped out of school simply because the subjects were too challenging for him and his perception of being a student and an immigrant. He used to think immigrant students

I have been a military child since birth, moving from place to place, seeing things I'd care to not have seen and seeing man hit rock bottom from a pink slip out the army, but this is all normal for me. My father has an amazing job and he loves his career, even if it moves us from small towns to enormous cities every three years. There was one move that impartially changed my views on not only the army but on myself, when people began treating me differently and staring at me as I walked by. It was the move to Osan south korea, a brand new country that when I first arrived had left me put in the dark and shut me out completely, until I met peoplled the way and showed me the beauty of the country, leaving me with a more open mind to new things.

Title Have you ever moved? I have and It’s hard, packing up and moving along with leaving any friends or family behind. Moving to a place you only visit once a year is, though, also I have only seen a small part of this state, the area by my grandma’s house. The summer of 20ll was a rough time. It was the year we moved from Florida to Kansas because my mom found a better job.

Started off with me having to move back to Indiana. First, my mom was nowhere to be found, so I wasn’t able to say good bye and that I loved her. I really wanted to be able to hug her one last time. She did the same thing when I was a kid. It made me feel unwanted all over again, so I got on the bus with nothing but 3 bags and no money.

Just like many immigrant families, my family had to encounter many adversities in the United States. My mother had to live the harsh experience of walking long hours and starve as she battled to cross the border of Mexico and the United States. Nothing, not even the fact that she was 5 months pregnant was going to stop her because her dream of giving me a better life was stronger than any hardship. My father was a legal resident of the United States but during this period of time it was very hard for an immigrant person to aspire for a good job. He was destined to work in the fields for many years. I grew up and went to elementary school and since my father was working out in the fields I was signed up to the Migrant Program. As a small elementary

Moving from Jordan to the United States was challenging for my family. I was the only child at the time and my parents primarily spoke Arabic in the house. The elementary teachers I had described me as a timid student, because I could barely speak English. I had difficulty with simple reading and writing, while other students went through class with ease. Needing extra tutoring classes and years of being in ESL was exhausting. However, learning how to read, write, and speak English fluently was only the beginning of my journey.

I come from an immigrant family and I have had the privilege to be exposed to different social, cultural and economic realities all my life as I constantly navigated across cultures. Aside from family origin in Ecuador, I was born in Virginia and lived in the Caribbean (Puerto Rico) for six years. The biggest influences on the way I see life comes from my immigrant parents. I have learned to perceive their differences and appreciate their interactions with me.

Hiding behind the stairs, I heard my mom say, “I think our time here is coming to an end.” Overhearing my parents’ statement startled me. Despite being unaware of the plot of this conversation, I hypothesized that some significant change was going to occur in my family’s life. Later, I entered my mom’s room to ask more questions. Unable to digest the most unanticipated and shocking answer in my life, a surge of questions streamed through my head: Why did we migrate from the US to India initially? Now, why are we moving back to the US? Why are they making arbitrary choices right before I start high school? All these questions swamped my mind.

As a part of an immigrant family, there is no doubt that, as the oldest, I had to help my parents with English translation. Even though I have been in this role for years, it was not until recently that I realized the significance of my responsibilities.

The United States is a country which declares that all men are created equal and that they are given unalienable rights. Unfortunately, the way the government treats immigrants reflects a different understanding of the Declaration of Independence. Immigrants are victims of persecution, banning, and discrimination. For instance, the new policies for immigration include the “Muslim ban.” Several Muslims from six particular nations traveled to the United States, but before they could depart from the airport, the officers did not let them into the country. Even the Muslims with legal residency were prohibited the entrance.

I do not really know if I returned home. The Stuttgart I came back to felt like a completely different city than the one I left. The streets are bare and the mood is reminiscent of the trenches between the bombardments and the attacks. Stuttgart was muted by the aftermath of the war. The Christmas markets that are customarily teeming with waves of people are now akin to No Man’s Land. The slight amount of citizens I do see look empty and hollow as if they just had their souls reaped by the Grim Reaper himself. None of what I thought made Stuttgart the bustling city that I loved existed. Everything was painted in the colors of war. Personally, I wished that I had not returned at all. The news that my sister Kristin had brought up on my return was devastating. My mother and my sister had died in an industrial disaster at the very factory I was working at prior to the war. The very people I had fought so hard to return to. Instead I return

The aspect that related to me the most this week was the chapter on relocation. My relocation was actually pretty self-centered in that I wanted to be close to my family after having a child. I remember growing up in Kankakee and coming back for a year after undergraduate studies and having big dreams for the city of Kankakee, but none of these dreams were involved with my decision to move back. When Perkins opens up with the chapter of relocation there is a statement that stood out to me in regard to this matter. “Of the three R’s that anchor the guiding philosophy of the Christian community development movement, relocation is clearly the most distinctive and troublesome.” (Perkins, 75) Relocation to the Kankakee area was easy, because

A stressful month of work has finally come to an end and a long waited vacation with the family is just around the corner. The next morning you finally get everyone’s bags packed and jump in a shuttle to head to the airport. When you arrive at the airport the heavy door to the shuttle opens as you gather your bags and head through the big glass doors to check in. The nice blonde at counter smiles at you and your family and tells you to have a nice trip. Making your way to security you are relieved that you no longer have to drag your heavy luggage around. When you hand your family’s passports to the TSA officer waiting half way through the line he takes a quick glance at them and hands them back so you can be on your way. As you are

Meg, When I search for the phone recording for this incident, nothing came up and I’m sure that during this time the phone recorder was down in CDU-Hamilton. But I did get the initial radio recording of us calling SSP (attached).

As time passes, our youthful explorations become more and more sophisticated. Bicycles will take us many miles farther from home than any of our parents, busy with houses full of babies, ever realize.