Personal Narrative: Moving To America

Moving to America, was a difficult transition for me. I had come to the realization that I wasn’t going to see my friends any time soon back in Iran and that was hard to overcome at a young age. I was alone as a child because my siblings are a lot older than me, and my parents’ had the challenge of starting over because they had left everything behind in Iran. However, that wasn’t going to get in the way of me succeeding in school. I have always been a fast learner, by the age of eight I had already learned four languages. Also, I was voted most improved by my classmate every year I was in Elementary School. This might not seem like a big achievement, but as a young student in a new country it was a huge motivation boost for me to improve every

John sat quietly thinking about the events from the day before. A lot had happened in the last couple hours. He wasn’t sure whether to stare at the wall in shock or go out celebrating. John had just been naturalized. He was a citizen of the United States of America. He never has to go back home. He had rights. He could out and say anything! He could practice his religion! He was American.

Moving to the states was a huge deal for me, since I have lived in Germany for 12 years. When my dad told me we were moving, I ran upstairs to my room and immediately called my friend Sina to tell her about it. This news broke my heart because I would have to leave my friends and not see them for a while. It was very difficult to leave my friends, but after a few months I got used to it. “Party in the U.S.A.” makes me think about being scared of people judging me and to just go with what others are doing.

I looked at myself at the mirror, drops of water coming out of my eyes like as if it was a rainy day in May. Hearing the news got me so upset and depressed. I sat outside and looked around the place that I have grown up and that meant a lot to me. When I heard that our family was moving to America I was not happy about that.I was angry with my family because I did not want to leave Ethiopia. I did not want to leave my friends and family in Ethiopia. It scared me that I had to leave my old life and start a new one. A month later, it was time to go the airport and get ready to go to the new country. I was nervous; my heartbeat got louder and louder as walked closer to the airport. As I bit my lip, my eyes were dancing to every corner, my legs were shaking, and my hands were sweating. I was sad that I was leaving the place that I called home and that I had to leave all my childhood memories. At the same time, I was excited because I always wondered what it felt like to move to a different country and adapt to a new world, culture, and language. At the airport, I was happy finally come face to face with the big white things that use to fly over my house. I was stunned to see how big they really were. All of the sudden my sadness turned into excitement and I could not wait to start a

Since the moment my oldest brothers moved to the United States my family knew we could not be apart from each other. Four years past, enough time to finally go start a new life with my brothers in the U.S. In between those four years I was born, my sisters would always talk about my unknown brother to me. Then they told me we were going to move. I was barely two years when we came to the U.S. It was February 25, 2004 when we said goodbye to my grandparents, mom and dads family. It was a long ride from Mexico City to Nogales, when we arrived in Nogales my brothers friend, Alejandro was waiting for us in a minivan. Alejandro told us that the toughest part was coming. He said we had to split up, my sisters and dad was going to walk through the

Coming to America about six years ago and adapting to the new world proved to be a real challenge for me. Aside from the cultural shock, I had to adapt to the usage of a foreign language in almost everything, which in turn forced me to work harder in my studies than in the previous years. My parents sacrificed a lot for their family. They left their country, their own business, and their family behind so that my sisters and I could have a better future. I came to America when I was in the eighth grade. I did not speak English fluently or understood it very well. When I got the admission in middle school my counselor gave the course selection sheet. I did not even know what courses to pick because the courses were almost alien in nature, or

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

My family and I in 2008 moved from Trinidad and Tobago to America. We were all so excited to move to a new country. We heard about all the fun experiences and great opportunities that America had to offer. I must admit that I had mixed emotions about moving to a new country. On one hand, I was exactly happy because I was going to have an opportunity to go college and presume my dream of being a childhood teacher or child psychologist. On the other hand, I was sad because I was leaving all my Tobago friends and family

The year of 2014 late summer I came to America with dreams and hopes, expecting the better for me and my family. I have family that had came before me; however they weren't that respectful for someone that had been living in Mexico their whole life. I used to get put down by the way I looked, talked or how I acted. I recall that they would talk in english about me , and make fun of me , so I wouldn’t understand what they were saying. I have cousins that don't even appreciate all the sacrifices that one as a parent has to make , so they are able to give a better life for their kids. On the good side of the story I would always keep in mind how I came here? thanks to who?and why?. So I realize that I fitted in the Hispanic community by attending to Hispanic events, playing soccer, and cooking hispanic food.

“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.

Growing up in Puerto Rico, my biological father was in and out of jail for failing to obey the court rules. As a result, my mother became my mom and dad. Although I had to experience that, I was a straight A student all throughout elementary school.

Growing up as a military brat wasn't easy, there were many places we had to go to and we didn't have a choice. One of those places was here ,Illinois, and I was ten when we made the move here.This move was probably the hardest thing I have ever physically gone through considering all of my mom and I's stuff was lost in the ocean because the place we moved from was Hawaii.So, when we got here me and mom both didn't have our stuff but the rest of my family did.To make matters worse my dad was being shipped out to South Korea and we didn't have a house. For a whole year we were homeless,we put what was left of our stuff into storage and moved in with grandma. As terrible as that year was, it taught me a lot about what some people actually live

My life in my perspective has been extraordinary. I have been fortunate enough to travel the United States and live in various parts as well. Each environment that I have been exposed to have differed from one another. The environments in which I was raised changes When my father received his orders. then my family and I have to move to another region of the United States. with these experiences, I have been well-rounded to accommodate to my new and unfamiliar surroundings. throughout my life, I've been privileged to see the world through my own eyes instead of reading about it end books and watching it on television. for example, Honolulu, Hawaii 2 people who have never been the entire island is a resort. but in all actuality the island experiences poverty. without me having to move every so often I wouldn't have known that but the experience of knowing that there are a big world out there very productive gains.

I was born in Bogota, Colombia where most people are catholics. Thus, I was baptized at the age of five. I also went to a catholic school from kindergarten up to second grade. However, I barely attended church because my parents were busy throughout the week to go to church. Then, at the age of nine my family and I moved to the United State.

I'm in a small small town named Grosselec Poland in the year 1920. I am in the town square, people are bustling about. There are many shops selling food, clothes and a few selling jewelry. I look over to see a woman walking with her three daughter to the grocery store. I follow them inside to hear the owner say, “Hello Jetti how are Rachella, Sylvia and Esther? Any word from Jacob?” This is my great great grandma, my Mom's, Dad's, Mom's, Mom, Jetti Teidor. She responds, “They are doing fine, now word though, I am starting to think that it is time for us to move to America.” After they leave I follow them home. Jetti opens the door, walks to the small kitchen and starts to make dinner.