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Personal Narrative: Moving To America

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“Something that I never had in life, something that you have but are taking for granted, I won't stand for it.” Game controller in hand, I gulped hard, with sweat rolling down my head. My eyes pointed directly downward, not daring to look up as my mother gave “the talk.” My mother’s words echo in my head. Having lost her father during high school, she was denied her right to higher education. She married at a young age, moved to America, and gave birth to me. The first born, the carrier of the American Dream. We were what one would expect from an immigrant Indian family; working hard, valuing education, and hoping for a better tomorrow. As my parents worked hard to sustain our family, I strived to excel in school, motivated by their hardship. …show more content…

The streets roared with loud car horns as my parents and I walked down the polluted sidewalks. It did not matter how far I walked or what part of the city I was in, I’d always see homeless men, women, and children were all around. Those who were not already passed out from starvation held their hands out to us, to me, in desperation. The looks in their eyes told stories of pain and loss. Yet they lived on, clinging to life, waiting patiently for the next rupee. “Don’t stare at them,” my mother commanded. “But why? We have change, let's give them some!” I demanded. “If we give to one person, all the others will come, and we don’t have enough for everyone,” she responded. Her brutally honest words lingered as I helplessly walked past the crowds. This experience not only taught me how fortunate I was, but it also made me want to fight harder. To fight for all the people who could not fight and to one day give them a voice-a chance in our unfair hierarchical society so that they too could be self-sufficient and pursue their own endeavors. I was determined to make a sustainable

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