Personal Narrative: My American History 102 Class

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.

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.

I walked into room 160 and saw a group of anxious 14 year olds, waiting for the lady we had all heard so much about to walk in. Rumors about her ranged from “she will make you cry daily” to “she’s basically the human form of a fire breathing dragon”. When the bell rang, we all prepared for the worst. The small lady that walked in, with short brown hair and glasses too big for her face did not look nearly as intimidating as all the stories suggested, which was comforting on that first day of class. This was Mrs. Carballo, my AP US History teacher. She started our first day off by talking about the summer reading and our objectives for the year. By the time the second week rolled around, I felt pretty comfortable with the course...that is, until we all received books that were almost bigger than we were!

America is a nation built on the backs of the weak. People from all forms of faith, belief, and nationalities came together, from persecuted, backgrounds to build the nation we exist in. My family was one such group of people. Irish immigrants, we moved from the homeland to the New World to be rid of a famine that was starving our people. In America we found new opportunities, but also much opposition. Racial classification and prejudice ruled in the mid to late 60s and beyond. This was during the time that Mr. Bernie Sanders began his rise to power. With a platform of protecting the weak, and building the middle class. This man is poised to revolutionize America. In the face of adversity, he stands firm and strong.

America’s greatest gifts to my generation in my thoughts, are freedom, internet access, and jobs.These are only some of the things that this generation are available to.We have been given the opportunities that people would have wished to have.Even so, some people take those chances, and abuse them.Here is why I chose these three opportunities.

America has been a beacon for people searching for a better life because America has a lot of opportunities for a better job payment. America also has a better environment for people to be successful. The American dream is to pursue happiness and to be confident in what you do. A famous example is Marther Luther king when people were talking down to him specifically white people. But he came successfully. Then a white man shot him in the chest. Someone in my life that is living their own version of The American Dream was my uncle Jose Dasilva. My uncles Americans Dream is to be successful and to have people working for him while he sits comfortably. My American Dream is to never go broke and has my own sneaker business but that's if I am not in the NFL or the NBA.

My American culture is special Because, I like to compete in fishing, and I have done really good.

The United States is 241 years old. There have been many changes to the country. Many of those changes have been in the last 100 years. My generation is lucky to have the freedom to do what we want. Being born in 2005, I am lucky to have opportunities other generation did not have.

When I was three months old, my parents requested my uncle to deliver me to my grandparents in China; my uncle was the stork and I was the baby. Although I was born in the states, my childhood was far from a typical Chinese-American girl. Instead of an alarm clock, I had a rooster. My grandfather drove me to preschool every day on a motorcycle, and after school I would come home to my grandmother planting seedlings in the endless field of rice paddies across from our house. On the weekends I would run through the Majong house to the snack shop where I would be nit picky about all the candies to decide which one was worthy of my five cents. I had completely assimilated into this culture, this childhood. Until the day that my dad stepped foot

Today I watched Robert Shaw and his troops stomp onto the battlefield to face their enemy. Their faces were calm, but somehow I could feel all of their emotions by looking into their eyes. As the first battle began I heard the loud noise that was created by the charge of hundreds of thousands of men. As I stood looking up in the sky I saw the high ball passing dangerously close overhead and its trembling thud against trees, earth, and bone was dangerous. After the battle I got to the camp; the sounds of battle exhausted me and some of the men from their sleep, the call was an important aspect of the Civil War. The call determined when a soldier woke up, went to bed, or charged. The March was very difficult for me because it's non stop

“Your final exam will be in three parts: multiple choice, primary source analysis, and three major essays. I won’t be allowed within 2 miles of you when you take the exam.” The words of Mr. F, my AP US History teacher, reverberated between my ear drums. He either didn’t notice or didn’t seem to care: “The AP US History exam will be on a Saturday in mid May. It’s graded on a scale of 0 to 5. Zero being the lowest possible score, 5 being the highest.” A student in the front row raises her hand, interrupting our baptism by fire. Mr. F motions for her to speak.

My first letter from my pen-pal came in the fall of 2000. It was terse, which I had assumed to be a product of the culture there. My pen-pal introduced herself as June, and said she was excited to learn about what America was like. My reply was understandably pretentious, as I sought to impress my brand new foreign friend with boasts about the food, the sports, the invariably superior American culture. June and I exchanged letters back and forth well into the winter. My letters were wordy and overdone; her’s displayed a taciturn personality that I struggled to understand.

I’ve learned many things in my English II class here at Infinity ECHS, an example of

My history grade was a solid A, my math grade on the other hand was a C-. It wasn’t till the end of the second week that I had realized that there was a possibility I would not pass or make it on the final trip. I started having some very awful stress attacks, I would hyperventilate and could not focus on anything. Luckily for me I had some amazing people in my life at that moment. All the Upward Bound staff, my friends, and teachers were helping me out as much as they could. Every time I would want to give up they wouldn’t let me. They believed in me more than I believed in myself.

In the first quarter of my 8th grade years in American history, I took the first test and barely