Personal Narrative: Moving To Europe

In March 1, 2009, suspect Lawrence Henry Lewis and Lawrneil Henry Lewis and their cousin Alejandro Sam Gray threw a large piece of concrete at customers in a gay bar in Galveston, Texas. There individual who was a victim, his name was Marc Bosaw. He needed 12 stitches in his head from being hit by concrete.

Moving to Syracuse a little over 3 years ago from Morocco all by myself proved rather difficult at first and my first year here was especially hard as battled minor depression. I had left Morocco to try and better myself in my birth country and the country I spent the majority of my childhood in. After I came out of my one year battle with depression. I had a new outlook on life and wanted to better myself and after my cousin told me about Onondaga Community College and all it had to offer, I was sold. Despite it the fact that it was far from easy getting started as it was all so knew to me. Applying for admission, registering for classes, applying for financial aid, and trying to decide on a major. Fortunately, everyone at the student central

On September 24, 2010, an airplane carried me to the ground of another country, to another dialect, new culture, new places, new habits, new challenges, new people and all in all, new life. I won't describe for you a lot about how hard it was to say farewell to all my relative and my friends, because I think you can picture yourself what would it feel like to leave everybody you know in your own country and move to America. When you leave your adolescence home — the place where you grew up, your local area or your country of residence or your homeland or anyway you feel to call it — you leave a piece of you behind. Before I came here in America, I thought that I would be in Hollywood, cozy house, bunches of tall structures, however to my mistake

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.

I think one of the reasons that me and my mom moved around so much was because of my mom and dad's divorce when I was five. The first school I went to was Marshal Elementary in Arizona but not even a year after starting there my mom decided to move to Oregon so I finished my first grade year at Meadowlark Elementary in eugene. once I had finished my first grade year my mom decided that I should learn spanish so she sent me to a spanish immersion school called called Buena Vista. But during the summer of my second grade year my mom found us some new roommates so we moved in with them then we all ended up moving to Camp Creek. I spent my third grade year at Camp Creek. during my third grade year my mom fought my dad for custody over me. When my mom own custody over me my time with my dad was cut down to about a fourth of what it was before. I

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

“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.

Vietnam in There is a small town in the Vietnamese countryside where many people grow rice for a living. Others have small barns to raise pigs, chickens, or ducks to sell it in the market places, so they could earn some money to support their families. In that small town, my family lived for many years. On one day in 2006, my family had “good” news. I wondered what it is. My mom told me, “We will move to America and live there.” From that moment on there were many emotions flowing through me. The new beginning for me was moving from Vietnam to America. The changes that I had to experience when I came to America would mean hard times for me. There were the language barriers that I had to overcome, the foods from home (Vietnam) that I couldn’t live without it, and the relationships with other people that I would miss.

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.

I couldn’t believe the day had come, I was moving to America! For me, this was going to be a whole new experience and a life-changing event. Truth be told, I did not know what to expect, and on what is going to happen next.

When we are reading a book, if we always read the same easy book that we read since we are the kindergartens, we wouldn’t learn new things. We would just read the same ten page over and over again, without knowing anything new. Although I was born in another country, the United States is the place I feel like home. When I came here (five years ago), I was a kind of a person, who has no perseverance or determination at all, and I was so negative, plus, I thought that I was the best in the world (which is not true). But all of that started to change suddenly when I get to know more about this country. Therefore, in here, I learned lots of new lessons, especially the lessons about life. So now, I am a persistent person, I believed, who won’t give

Transitions are a part of life. Most people their first big move is going to college after high school. Mine was gliding over the Pacific Ocean at the age of three to New Zealand. When most people think of this country, they think of The Lord of the Rings, an abundance of sheep, or even, “that one island close to Australia”. To me, though, New Zealand was my home. After nine years, I would be leaving everything I knew and I would be moving to America. However, my life did not start in New Zealand. I was born in Fairfax Hospital, Virginia, and for the first three years of my life, I lived in America. I don’t remember much about the house we lived in, but I do remember walks to the park and my black Labrador: Pepper. We had to leave her behind when we moved to New Zealand in 2000 because strict bio-security laws would require her to be quarantined. She was left behind. I left many more memories behind in New Zealand when I moved back to America in 2009. Things like

The first time I’ve met my parents was when I was five. When they approached me at the airport, I did not know who they were. When I found out that they were my parents, I did not know how to react — I was excited, but also scared. Standing in front of me were two people whom I listened to the voices of for the past five years and spoke casually with on the phone, but meeting them in person was a whole different story.

during independence the liberals claimed that a democratic republic was established in Mexico, free from the influence of the Church, which would be made up of three branches: legislative, executive and judicial.

Simply put, for democracy to exist the state must be accordingly structured with principles of democracy. The key distinction between democracies and republics is within the limits placed on the state by the law, especially with concern for minority rights. Both systems generally use representational voting that often takes place in legislatures/parliaments. In a republic, a constitution will guarantee protection for individual rights that cannot be restrained by the government. By contrast, in a pure democracy the majority cannot be restrained in this manner and may, in fact, force its’ ideals on the minority. The most successful and ideal type representational republic is that of the Romans, which Machiavelli holds to a high