I wake to the sound of harsh car horns and street vendors yelling at tourists to buy their “limited edition” bobble heads of our president Donald Trump VIII. What a way to wake up. Back home I was greeted with the crash of sleepy morning waves and calls of the seagulls letting me know it was morning. Carlsbad was where I grew up for the seventeen years I have been alive and planned to spend the rest of my life. That dream was crushed when Trump decided to start testing his nuclear weapons off the coast of California to show off his power to North Korea. The toxic waste became so great that everyone living on the West Coast had to move inland. My dad John applied to work as a secret service agent to the president when we realized there was a …show more content…
“Bye Reya! I love you!” my mom calls. I run back inside and give my mom and brother a big hug and kiss.
“I love you too,” I whisper because with everything going, this could be the last time I see my family.
I walk the one block from my house to the White House and check in. The days go by relatively fast. I have a script I tell the tourists while guiding them through the White House and each tour is about an hour. I get one break at twelve o’clock for lunch then return to work by one. I have two more tours after I eat then I start my one block treck home.
By the time I make it home, I am sweating bullets from the hot summer sun. I walk into my cool, air conditioned home with a sigh of relief finally being out of the scorching sun. “How was work?” my mom asks. “Anything interesting happen
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My nose fills with the sensational smell of garlic bread as I bound down the stairs. My dad just got home from work and I greet him with a massive hug. Dinner is just about ready so my brother and I set the table. My mom, dad, brother, and I sit down and begin eating our spaghetti dinner. We sit in the sad, scared silence we usually do ever since we moved here.We all know that we wish we were still in Carlsbad with the rest of our family and that with everything going on there’s nothing we can do to change that. So, we sit in silence because we are also tired of hearing about how close we are to nuclear war. Then out of nowhere my brother slings a fat meatball at me from across the table. For the first time in a long time, I can hear the cackle of my mom and dad’s laughter that sounds like music to my ears. The table erupts with laughter and I can feel the mood of my whole entire family shift back to the happy easy going people that I know and love. For the first time since we moved here, I thought I could actually get used to living here with my one of a kind family. Then the bomb sirens go off, only this time we can see the bright balls of light headed our
An american story is a story revolving around his or her lifestyle, culture and everyday habits. This is about past experiences, accomplishments, and biggest downfalls. I will be discussing not only my biggest accomplishments, but also my biggest failures that I have occurred in life. What will my american story be? Keep reading to find out.
done in the past has given us freedom today. I am so thankful for all those who
“We’ll have time for hugs and kisses later.” Aaron yells. “We just need to get out of the city!”
"I have run up credit card bills that I didn't know how I would pay off. I recognize when I am engaged in a spending spree, but I often have felt powerless to stop myself. The compulsion to finish the list and to avoid adding other things to the list - by buying them right then - has often been much stronger than the recognition that I didn't have the money to pay for what I was buying" (Spenders Anonymous, n.d.). This excerpt is from the story of a man named Kirk, who is a compulsive buyer. Kirk is not alone; many Americans are controlled by a cycle of working and spending what meager amount they have left to buy luxury items. Sometimes these citizens do not even have the money to pay for what they are buying. Truly, these people are miserable, but the idea that consumerism equals happiness and that they are living free lives is driven into American people since childhood. Consumerism and freedom are key parts of the American dream. The American dream emphasizes hard work and sacrifice, but in return, it promises the possibility of success to everyone, regardless of his or her socioeconomic circumstances. Despite the good intentions behind the ancestral ideal, the American dream has turned into a nightmare.
When I was at the very innocent age of three, my parents decided to immigrate to the United States from Bolivia. We moved to Pasadena, TX, in hopes of pursuing the American dream. Growing up, my neighborhood was not the best environment to raise a family, however, this environment shaped me into the person I am today. My parents initially made the decision to move because my father got a job offer that was too good to decline. We were promised a house in a nice neighborhood as well as jobs for both of my parents. When we arrived after a 13-hour flight, all of the promises along with our hopes were shattered. We were taken to lower-income apartments in the middle of a sketchy neighborhood. My father’s promised job was on the night shift as a
I am the American Dream. The President and I, alongside our family members are the chosen ones. I can not tell you how blessed we are by calling the greatest nation on Earth, our home. We can not be a better example for the rest of us living on any part of the God gifted planet of you and I. While Mrs. Clinton was making a few hundred thousand dollars a speech, I can recall Barack and I having a car that was so rusted, we could see the street and the sidewalk from the side of the door. But for as far as I can remember, he never was late on a date night. Although I was once or twice. Our students loan was even more than our mortgage. But living in the Beautiful House for almost a decade now did not change us as who we are, even dating back to
I was born in the capital of Colombia, Bogota. At the age of six, my family decided we would immigrate to the United States in search of economical stability, a better quality of life and better opportunities of education for my brother and I. My parents were ready to leave their families, jobs, and everything they knew behind. They talked about how wonderful life in the United States would be, and found comfort in the abundance of jobs, good salaries, good schools and opportunities North America would offer our family. I then believed that stepping foot on the US was a guarantee for a wonderful life, the American dream. Unfortunately from the beginning of my journey I realized life is not easy and mature immensely in the ongoing process of achieving the American dream.
Growing up in Ghana, I had heard a lot of things about the U.S. This was a country I had always wanted to visit; my prayer was answered when I got the opportunity to travel there. Arriving in a new environment came with many experiences. Adjusting with food, language and the weather was not easy. With the passage of time, however I have been able to0 adjust and fit it. This write-up therefore is to elaborate on my experiences since coming to U.S.
As an African American female, I did not have the privilege of growing up in the most financially sound environment, however, I did not fall victim to my surroundings; a financially oppressed culture in the local Gordon Heights community indicative of low income families. My grandparents were hard working individuals set on making a better life for their descendants. My grandfather was a Suffolk County Police Officer, my grandmother a United States Postal Services employee. The values passed down from my grandparents has showed me the pros and cons of a being a part of a culture limited in its ability to reach the American Dream. From my experiences, as I matured throughout the years, I grew a love and passion for helping under privileged populations
I was born in Havana, Cuba and lived there for ten years. If I am honest I cannot remember much about Cuba unlike my mother; however even though I cannot remember much I always used to think that Cuba was home regardless of how long we stayed in America. Similar to most children I took after the actions of my parents while growing up. If my mother and grandmother spoke about Cuba or any topic related to it I would listen to them and then I tried to have the same conversation with my uncle as if to let them know that I was thinking about Cuba as well. I used to believe that when we flew over to America we brought Cuba with us and that was a normal thing; however my thinking was changed over the course of only one year in America.
That’s basically all I could understand as I left the immigration center. People all around me were talking in languages I had only studied in textbooks, which barely helped. That was the first time I could really look around and see where I was. The sound of car engines roared in my ears as I walked across the street; people squashed into a small bus while chattering in a garbled language that made no sense. Everywhere I looked I saw chaos, and I couldn’t have been happier.
As an immigrant, life was very difficult financially. With just the clothes on their backs my parents left their home country, Haiti, and came to the US in pursuit of the American Dream. They wanted a better life for my sisters and I, however, we faced many challenges growing up. It was difficult adjusting to a new country, language, and culture. My parents did not speak English nor did they have a formal education, so it was difficult finding a stable job to sustain us. We became dependent on public assistance in order to survive. We lived in a low-income, underserved area and attended low performing schools. Our family income was well below the poverty level but this did not stop me from pursuing my dreams. I was determined to not let my
The event that I am choosing to show my American Identity, is when President Obama got elected. I’m choosing this life event because, President Obama was our first African American to hold the office. Also President Obama was the first president born outside the continental United States. When I think of President Obama being the first African American president, I think that is amazing because, I would have never thought that he would win because of racism. I think that President Obama was a strong leader and was a great president and did a good job.
Studying in a foreign country is an interesting experience of an individual lifetime. One tends to learn a number of things relating to ways of life in a foreign land. Social, political and economic values and aspects are usually different from one region to another. Therefore, through studying abroad one is able to learn different issues about another society such as gender and sexuality issues, social class and race/ethnicity issues. Having come from a developing country studying in the U.S.A has been a great experience personally. This paper will attempt to provide a reflection of my personal experience on studying in the U.S by comparing the history of Angola and the U.S.
When I close my eyes and envision the United States, I see barbeques and baseball games. Children running around in big, green playgrounds and coming home to white picket fences and well kept flowerbeds. As sunny and aesthetically pleasing as this image of our country is, I find it oddly discomforting. Here I am, standing on the precipice on adulthood, about to inherit the very future of this country, and I still see this picture of stereotypical 1950's idealism. And while the greatest generation may retain their title, the world is moving at a faster pace than the sleepy hometowns that were once the American Dream. My vision involves us stepping up to the plate and reaffirming our position as the land of opportunity.