Personal Narrative: Moving To Italy

The Italian culture has been developed into a staple of American life, especially with a preexisting history ingrained into communities across the United States.

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

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

I moved to America from Albania when I was little. English was not my first language so, I had to learn it by practicing my fellow classmates' example. I was a part of HILT, High-Intensity Language Training, in elementary school to help my language barriers. Before middle school began, teachers thought I no longer needed HILT. It was because I had worked hard to get be in the same place most other students were in. In high school, I found things I was passionate about. In my sophomore year, I joined Future Business Leaders of America and became joined the mentor

I finally made it to America! The journey from Italy was definitely more challenging than I would have expected. When I first decided I would move here, I didn't expect the amount of storms that we hit. On the week journey, there was only a few days when it did not rain. We were so close together in the bottom of the ship that there was barely any room to breathe! I was barely allowed on the upper decks, which made the lower deck seem so much more crowded. I heard someone say that there was around 3,000 people on the ship alone, and most of them were in steerage class with me. I didn't get the opportunity to change my clothing, and we were only allowed to shower in salt water, if at all. The meals consisted of soups or stews throughout

Even though it hasn’t been a long time since our family has moved to America, it feels like a lifetime ago. I can barely remember the days of walking around barefoot and only having a small piece of bread to eat, while here everyone has shoes to wear and eats pasta multiple times a week. How my life has changed in such a short time. Everyone and everything moves at such fast pace here, if one blinks they can miss a lifetime. Back in Sicily, the days drug on while everyone went through the motions of their days on the farm. There are many differences between Sicily and here in America, but the first time I laid my eyes on the Statue of Liberty, I knew I was meant to be an American.

My mother gave me this book to write in before I left my entire family behind in Chiapas, Mexico. She told me not to be afraid and to write whenever I am feeling upset, anxious, or angry. I haven’t wanted to write this stuff down, but I do not want to say it out loud either. I moved to America last year to stay with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in Brooklyn, New York; I was twelve then and perhaps very naive about what my life would be like in America. I didn’t know any English, but my parents told me that coming to America would help me become smarter. Better even. Unfortunately, America is not what I thought it would be and in recent times, the President is even threatening to make us leave. In Mexico, I felt that I had such an amazing life, where I was able to run around and be free. But here, I am stuck between four walls in a small one bed-room apartment. In the land of opportunity, I feel that I have none.

"Yesenia tu tienes una chispa" said a much older white haired man. At that moment how could a snot nosed brat understand the importance of words coming out of this man's mouth? A big part of me today traces back to words my grandfather so sweetly spoke to me and to the tenderness and love he shared with me. "Yesenia you have a spark" He said it to me I was raised to believe I am unique. The first time my grandfather and I were separated was when my parents made the decision to move to the United States. When you're as young as I was, you don't really understand where you're going or why everyone is crying, or the fact that your life is about to change. Coming to the United States caused chaos in my family. Those first years were hard I wasn't used to an unstable household. Later, my parents divorced that led to hate and

It’s been a little over a month since I got to America from Mexico. I live in New York City now. It’s nothing as I expected it to be people in the city are very rude, one day I was walking to work which is a clothing factory a teenage boy, who looked very wealthy told me, “go back where you come from” and “you don’t belong here.” That’s when I met the nicest woman I have ever met, her name’s Jane. She saw everything that happened, she knew I was scared of the boy and that’s when she gave me this flyer. She told me to come to her organization meeting at this church where she would help me adjust to New York. Surprisingly, the meeting was during a time I didn’t work and I heard a couple of the girls that I work with chatting about it. So, I

Over the past seven years my family and I have moved to many different countries and we have never stayed in one place for very long. In the year 2009 my family moved to Costa Rica, in 2010 we moved to Guatemala, then in 2011 we moved back to the US, then in 2012 we moved to England, and finally in 2015 I moved by myself back to the US. I really struggled with the moving to different countries so often, the biggest struggle I had was I never felt like I had a permanent home. It also felt like every time I finally put down roots, they just got ripped up again. On the other hand, one of my best friends, who also moved to many different countries all over the world, never struggled with it and loved the adventurous aspect of moving. For the longest

For me, being an Italian American means that I have come from a long line of hardworking immigrants who came to the United States to make a better life for their children while still maintaining their Italian cultural pride and heritage. From the time that I was a small child, I was taught to be proud of my Italian heritage. From the young age of four or five, I can remember sitting in the kitchen while my grandmother and great-grandmother would be cooking and they would tell me how my great-great grandparents immigrated to the United States from Calabria. They told me how my great-great -grandfather came with little money and could not speak English. He worked in the mines and sold wood on the side in order to make a living. A few

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.

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

Both The Importance of Being Earnest, a comedy play written before 1900, and The Middle, a contemporary comedy about a weird family which attempts to get together despite incredible differences and challenges, use comedic techniques to get the reader or viewer more interested. These strategies work in that one is more likely to continue viewing or reading while laughing and relating to the information as well. In The Importance of Being Earnest, Oscar Wilde takes the reader on very wild ride through his land of craziness. Ridiculous plot lines and weird findings lead to awkward situations which somehow get resolved by an unlikely source. The Middle pertains to people who are interested in seeing a dysfunctional family try to get along and survive in their unusual home.