Personal Narrative: Moving To The Midwest

Just recently, I found out I was moving to another state. Knowing I have to leave everything behind was awful. I was halfway through eighth grade, starting the second semester, and I was doing great. My grades were all A’s and I was happy there with all my friends, Amber, Marianna, and Makayla. Our house was decent, my sister and I both had our own rooms anything I would ever wish for. My dad had been promoted to another job, where he was going to get paid more than what he was currently earning. It was an amazing opportunity for my family. I was glad for my dad, but I still felt bad for myself.

Growing up I lived in the small town of Duncan, Oklahoma; although, not nearly as small as the town I currently reside in. Throughout my adolescence, I attended Mark Twain Elementary School and as I was ending the third grade, my parents decided that we should move to Fox, Oklahoma to be closer to my grandparents. Moving would bring big changes my way such as a smaller school, living in the middle of nowhere, and new ways of entertainment. Living in the country has its pros and cons, but I can tell you the only thing I could think of the night we moved out there was the cons. Eventually, I had grown accustomed to the silence, lack of traffic, and having nothing to do. Looking back I feel that if we had not moved to the country then I would

I grew up in the south. Growing up there was like growing up anywhere else I suppose. Woke up, went to school, came home, ate dinner, and went to sleep. Nothing exciting or special. Just a basic 17 year-long routine.

I am originally from a small city in the middle of Florida named Ocala. It is a family friendly city locate approximately an hour away from the beach both on the East or the West side of Florida. I spent my first eight years growing up playing on the beaches, catching lizards, and going over to friend's houses. Ocala has a strong sense of Southern hospitality and the mindset that you should always help your neighbors. Growing up in this community taught me a lot about being polite to your elders, caring about everyone, to listen the first time, and how to cook some of the best cobbler ever. I'm very proud of being raised with Southern mannerisms that set me apart for the current trend of people who only thinking about themselves. I'm thankful

I find myself looking over my shoulder every time I step outside my front door. Violence has opened my eyes and destroyed my dreams of peace. When I first moved to Philadelphia from Puerto Rico, I moved into a neighborhood that was full of gangs and drugs. Philadelphia represented a new start, a chance for me to breathe again. I had experienced a tragic shooting right before my ten year old eyes in Puerto Rico; my mom’s best friend was killed, while the murderer calmly walked away. We escaped to Philadelphia, and I thought my days of witnessing horrific violence were over. However, my dreams were shattered like gunshots in the night. One day, while I was napping, I was awoken by a series of deafening pops. As soon as I heard them, I dropped

It was pouring rain the day I moved to Tennessee, which reflected exactly how I felt on the inside. One week before my Junior year of high school, my parents decided to relocate the family six hours away from where I’d lived my entire life—a decision that was not supported by all those involved.

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.

When talking about where I’m from it is hard to say exactly where or what as I am an Army brat, meaning I have moved to and lived in many places. I was born in Alabama and spent the longest time In Kennesaw where I live now but up until I moved to Kennesaw I didn’t stay anywhere for too long. For the most part, I welcomed the moving from place to place. I saw each move as an opportunity to see a new place and meet new people. Not everywhere I went was the best, but I always looked forward to every move.

I’d lived in Florida my entire life up until I was nine years old, so moving to a new state was a big change for me. In fact, moving to Ohio was the biggest change in my life so far. It was because of my grandparents’ visit that mom realized living in Florida isolated us from the rest of our family. For this reason, my parents came to the conclusion that we should move to Ohio. I didn’t want to go at first, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

At the end of Freshman year, I moved away to Michigan from Illinois. I lived in Illinois since I was born until the move. Michigan to me, seemed to be too far of a move. My parent’s friend is who gave them the idea that Michigan was a “better place” than Illinois.

Imagine a happy place where everything was all right in the world. You have a loving family and loving friends whom you get you play with all day long until you get tired. Now, imagine that happy place being taken away from you, all in one day. That’s how I felt when I found out I was moving away from my family and friends. When I was young, I did not understand why I had to move away to a place that was completely foreign and unfamiliar. I can still remember the frustration and disbelief I felt when I was told I was moving from Philippines all they way across the world to the United States of America. I cried, I kicked, and I fussed hoping that would make a difference but it did not. It didn’t matter how I felt or whether I understood the reason, because I was moving either way. Moving from Philippines to America was a challenge for me because of the language, I had trouble fitting in and I struggled to make friends.

I'm an established freelance writer based in San Diego covering environmental issues in the Southland and beyond. Although it's hard for me to

Rosewood. The school I'll be attending for the rest of my three years of high school, and to be completely honest, I'm not al that excited. I'm not good at making friends, which usually ends up with me being alone. Last year I made two friends, Isabelle and Roy. That's only because I had to do a group project with them second term, sure they were nice and welcoming but I never talked to them, I'd smile and wave in the halls or exchange small 'hello's' but other than that I was alone. The only good thing I can think of is that I could have a new outlook and not that of -what the school called me- 'Emo' and I'm not. Perhaps moving to Illinois could be a good thing, but if I get labeled a Emo again it's 9th grade all over again. Three days from now I'll be on my way to my new home..

My mom wanted to move to Indiana and my dad wanted a cat. My mom didn't want to take Shadow on the long drive, so we ended up giving Shadow to my dad. My mom and I moved to Indiana. When we got here I still really wanted a cat and really missed shadow. My mom got me a surprise that we still have today! She got me a new cat named Sylvester! He is a short haired tuxedo cat. I remember getting him and being so happy I had another cat.

I had heard endless stories of my family that lived in Tulsa, but my 10-year-old self never would have imagined that I would come face to face with them. Especially not like this. I spent my entire life moving from city to city, state to state, how could my dad even think about settling down now? And in Tulsa of all places? It was moving day and I knew I could not put off meeting them any longer. As the movers scurried around the house, I anxiously waited in the driveway for my family to arrive. That’s when I saw them coming down the road, five black cars, 10 aunts and uncles and 17 cousins that had been figures of my imagination until this very moment. As the car doors swung open, my mind immediately pictured a clown car as I watched the people pour out of the car. Although everything I had heard made them seem crazy, my heart was racing as I felt a sense of excitement rush over me.